


The Christmas potion

by herumtreiber



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Community: slythindor100, Drama, M/M, Male Slash, Manip, NSFW Art, Potions, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:33:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 35,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herumtreiber/pseuds/herumtreiber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During Christmas break of Eighth Year, Harry and Draco are drawn together to puzzle out of the meaning of Draco's strange dreams. It seems Harry's troubles are far from over.<br/>For slythindor100 Christmas Challenge</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vanashta](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=vanashta).



  
  


  
  
  


Draco snuggled into his coat, his breath puffing up in the cold December day. Raising his hand to nudge his fur hat which was slightly askew, he glanced up at the snow-covered roof tops of the houses along Diagon Alley.

He squinted at the window display when the sun struck sparks off the foot grips of the Firebolt, showcased so prettily in the Quidditch store. Draco tilted down his chin, staring at the pristine snow which covered the cobbled stones. Then he stuck his hands in the pockets of his coat and shook his head. He had no time to lose getting distracted by brooms.

Staring ahead at the dilapited façade of the Leaky Cauldron, Draco's fingers brushed his wand as he wearily trudged the last steps to the Apothecary, his lonely footprints on the snow the only signs of life in the cold morning.

He scrunched up his nose at the foul smell of rotten cabbage that greeted him when he strolled into the dark shop.

"What can I do for you, sir?" mumbled the portly man behind the counter, laying down the Daily Prophet on the stained wood of the counter as he sneaked a look at Draco, and then he gasped.

Draco's long blond hair, limned by the morning light, lent him a striking resemblance to Lucius.

Draco scuffed his boots in apprehension, mistaking the shopkeeper's silence for the contempt he had become accustomed to after the Final Battle.

The man nudged up his bifocals with his thumb and squinted at Draco, finally nodding nervously. "What do you need, young Malfoy?" he said, waving his arm at the shelves full of jars which held odd liquids in which small shapes appeared to swim lazily.

Draco averted his gaze from the shelves and shuddered, their content striking too close to his recent nightmares.

Long seconds passed by while Draco hesitated. How could he tell the shopkeeper the truth? He would think him mad, or else a rabid Dark wizard intent on revenge.

He had to act, though; he couldn't just cross his arms and do nothing.

Harry Potter, the infuriating Gryffindor do-gooder, needed him. And this time, Draco intended to be there for him.


	2. Two

"May I interest you in bubotuber juice?" said the shopkeeper while holding up an amber-colored bottle; noting Draco shaking his head minutely, he reached across the counter and hefted a carton box. "Erumpent tails then? They're quite handy for…"

"That's not what I'm looking for, Mr.…" Draco arched his eyebrows.

"Sorry, I haven't introduced myself, have I? My name is Phineas Jiggs." The shopkeeper peered at Draco over his glasses. "May I ask _what_ precisely are you interested in?"

Draco stepped away from the shelf and made a face at the awful scents wafting down from the herbs, repressing a shudder at the sight of flobberworm parts.

"Reckon the smell of hydrogen sulphide isn't particularly appealing." Mr. Jiggs grinned, revealing yellowed teeth. "Quite useful in bundimum secretion, though." He glanced at Draco and raised his eyebrow. "Sorry, lad, what I meant was…"

Draco raised his hand. "I understood that perfectly well. My godfather mentioned it when he was tutoring me."

Mr. Jiggs nodded sagely while Draco narrowed his eyes at him. "Come to think of it, how do you know about that? That's a Muggle term, Severus said."

"Learned it at university," the shopkeeper said, leaning towards Draco and lowering his voice until he ended in a whisper. "I'm a Squib, you see."

The man took out a ragged handkerchief from the pocket of his trousers and rubbed his forehead, nervously awaiting Draco's reaction.

The Slytherin pursed his lips and stood there in silence; finally, he nodded curtly. "I'm not my father, Mr. Jiggs." The corners of his lips curled upward in a wry smile. "These days, even Lucius isn't Lucius."

Mr. Jiggs nodded. "Thank Merlin for that. During the War I had to flee to France, you know? Couldn't bear the risk of staying here." He scowled at Draco. "Reckon your father wouldn't have been pleased to make my acquaintance, would he?"

Draco blushed at that, well aware that the shopkeeper was right.

Mr. Jiggs waved his arms. "Let's forget about it, shall we? That's water under the bridge, so to speak. Now, what brings you here?"

Draco laid his hands on the counter, leaning forward as he said softly, "Actually, I wondered if you knew about a potion to trap wizards."

Mr. Jiggs scrunched up his face in confusion, his eyes widening in alarm. "Trapping people is Dark Arts stuff, Malfoy. I thought that after the trials, your family would stay out of…."

"It's a school project, all right?" Draco said loudly, interrupting the shopkeeper. "I've consulted lots of books at Hogwarts. Since the library at my house was confiscated and bloody Slughorn can't stand me, I thought you might be of help."

"I don't recall ever having heard of such a thing," said Mr. Jiggs. "I know plenty of potions that kill, maim or disfigure, but none that could trap people."

Draco heard the door creaking open and turned towards it, scowling at the newcomer.

"Hello, Draco! Fancy meeting you here," Luna said, twirling the huge beads of her necklace.

"What are you doing here, Lovegood?" Draco said. He could swear those beads would look right at home inside the jar filled with Acromantula eyes in the shelf next to Luna.

"I need some _Mrs. Scower's Magical Mess Remover_." Luna smiled briefly. "I'm afraid Neville and dad's trophies don't mix."

"We spent a lot of time straightening up that room." Draco sighed, recalling the week in which he helped Luna with her home. As part of his sentence in the Wizengamot trials, he had spent the summer before Eighth Year helping both Luna and the Weasleys fix up the damage caused to their property by Death Eaters.

"You were quite helpful, Draco, especially with the heliopaths that wanted to burn my room."

He scowled at her when Luna's fingers brushed his blond mane. "I reckon they were scared by your silky hair."

"Excuse me, Miss Lovegood," the shopkeeper said loudly. "I'm afraid we ran out of the Magical Mess Remover after the Weasley twins released their new product."

"Figures," grumbled Draco.

Luna shrugged. "I'll have to find another way to clean."

"Get one of your animals to help," mumbled Draco under his breath as he made his way out of the apothecary with Luna.

"Did you say anything, Draco?"

"Not really."

"Good." Luna fished out her wand from the pocket of her cloak and cast a Warming Spell on herself and Draco. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm on my way to Harry's."

"You're going to Potter's?" he said, affecting a nonchalant air.

"I have to help him with the Christmas tree," whispered Luna, glancing around fearfully. "Bobbing Glimpies might be around."

"Bobbing what?"

"They are known to swallow Christmas baubles," Luna said, lifting up a diminutive box which she handed to Draco.

"Like this one." She swirled her wand, and the box grew in size. Luna opened the lid and took out a gorgeous Christmas bauble whose scarlet color was highlighted by beige curlicued lines. She put it gently back on its place next to the beige tinsel star, her fingers brushing the red ribbons around it.

"Whatever you say, Luna." Draco shrugged.

She tilted up her chin to gaze at him and shot him a smile. "Want to come with me, Draco?"


	3. Three

"Something the matter, mate?" Ron brushed his fringe and cocked his head towards the fireplace of 12 Grimmauld Place, just at the spot where his best friend was directing his glare.

Draco was squatting on the floor. He was picking Christmas baubles which he then handed to Luna, their blond manes shining in the slant of the late afternoon.  
  
"It's nothing, Ron." Harry appeared to scowl fiercely at his Christmas tree, which prompted Ron to shake his head knowingly.

"Luna does have a flair with ornaments, doesn't she?" The redhead glanced at the tree; under the weight of sundry decorations, it tilted dangerously towards the portrait of Phineas Black, appearing to bow to the disgruntled Black ancestor.

"Who ever heard of stuffed papayas used as decoration?" Ron said, trying to lift Harry's mood.

"It's not that, it's who she brought here," said Harry, growling when Luna placed her hand on Draco's shoulder, leaning down to whisper something in the Slytherin's ear.

"Draco? I thought you two got along better."

"Since when do you call him Draco?" Harry looked sharply at Ron.

"Malfoy helped with chores around the house last summer, he isn't a _completely_ bad bloke," Ron said reasonably. "Reckon we got the rivalry out of our system when Fred and George kept pranking us. Have to say Draco made a good ally."

"Is that true?" Harry grumpily stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

Ron rubbed his hands gleefully. "You should've seen the twins after I slipped the potion Malfoy made into their porridge. Hermione had a great idea when she convinced Shacklebolt to try this new approach to punishment."

Harry shook his head ruefully, wishing he had been there to see it all. Unfortunately, while Ron stayed to help his family rebuild the Burrow, Harry accompanied Hermione to Australia, where the two managed to restore the memories of her parents.

"Harry, what do you think?" Luna said loudly, waving her arms at the gaily decorated tree.

"Looks good enough," Harry said; then he nodded at Ron and cocked his head at the door. "I'm going outside to get some fresh air."

"Ok, mate."

Harry made his way to the door and grabbed his coat from the rack. He stepped out of the house, snuggling into his woolen scarf. He inhaled deeply the fresh scent of snow as he trudged along the street, his boots making swooshing sounds.

He hadn't been completely honest with Ron. What bothered him wasn't Draco's presence, but the familiarity he displayed with Luna, and even Ron.

There had been plenty of opportunities to talk with Hermione while they searched for her parents, and the subject of Draco had often come up. Under Hermione's careful nudging, he began to acknowledge the breadth and depth of the feelings that seemingly tied him to the annoying blond.

And yet, under the rush of coming back to Hogwarts and the myriad obligations that popped out of nowhere – Quidditch captaincy, the grueling study schedule Hermione insisted upon – there had not been time enough to act on those feelings.

Dreams of Draco haunted him; some made him blush heatedly, while others, dark and foreboding, caused him to wake up in alarm, sweaty hair plastered to his forehead.

The clock kept ticking, too. Christmas vacations reminded him that there was only one term left at Hogwarts, and afterwards he might not get to see Draco again.

A speck of white in the blue sky caught Harry's attention and he tilted up his chin to gaze up. It was a snowy owl approaching from the north, and the sight of the pristine white wings speckled with brown tufts made him catch his breath.

Harry closed his eyes, his heart thumping painfully in his chest as he pictured Hedwig flying free beside his broom, her eyes filled with warmth and intelligence as she looked at him.

The hooting sounds high above caused him to open his eyes and stare at the white speck that vanished in the horizon.

"Bye," whispered Harry, imagining it was Hedwig he was talking to.

The sound of muffled footsteps in the snow made him turn towards his house. He saw Draco walking towards him, holding a mug in each hand.

"Potter, you're going to catch a cold." He pushed the cup towards Harry, the liquid inside sloshing and falling on the ground, leaving brown stains on the snow. "Brought you some cocoa."

"You did?" Harry reached out for the mug, his fingers touching briefly Draco's soft palm.

"That elf of yours positively insisted I should bring it to you," Draco said innocently.

Harry lifted his mug to hide his grin. Kreacher wasn't known for his coddling ways, and he knew deep inside it had been Draco's idea to come out to find him.

Draco walked beside him as the two slowly made their way to the house. "Blaise wants me to rejoin the Quidditch team."

Harry's eyes gleamed as he glanced sideways at Draco. "Will you? Slytherin is in third place, you know." He raised his hand and nudged his glasses with the rim of the mug. "Not that it will make any difference. Gryffindor will win yet again!"

Draco lifted his cup to sip the cocoa. "Says who? It's been years since we met on the air." He narrowed his eyes at Harry, fixing him with a steely gaze. "Scared, Potter?"

"You wish!"


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SFW Draco manip by vanashta

"Mate, don't stand too close to the tree." Ron leaned towards Harry. "Had to use an anchor charm or two. Those things she hung on the tree are heavy," he whispered, cocking his head at Luna, who was talking with Draco.

"Reckon the practice will come in handy during Auror training." Harry snorted, his eyes fixed on Draco's slim form.

The Slytherin sauntered towards them, nodding at Ron. "Weasel, in case I forget, please convey my heartfelt greetings to the Weaselette."

Ron scowled at that while Harry fished around in his pocket for his wand. Apparently, that famed truce Ron had been prattling about was ready to break; he had to be prepared to separate the two stubborn gits.

"Only if you do the same with the Ferretette!" snarled Ron.

"The what?" Draco said wonderingly, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Your mother," mumbled Ron, his cheeks blushing in embarrassment.

"Oh, I see." Draco's lips curled up in a tight smirk. "Don't let Mother hear you say that, her hexes are brutal." He rubbed a spot near his elbow. "I should know."

"Talking about hexes," said Ron slowly. "I'm worried about Fred and George."

"What's up with them?" said Harry, leaning on the wall and propping up his boot on the peeling wainscot.

"After Draco and I got our revenge? The twins vowed reprisal." Ron smiled briefly at Harry. "Couldn't shake off the effects of that potion for days, mate; they were stuck together like glue. Couldn't even pass through the doors, the scowling gits had to apparate to go from one room to another!"

Harry shot them a flashing smile, and Draco's eyes widened.

The Gryffindor should do it more often, he concluded, especially if the gaze of those twinkling green eyes was directed at him.

"So Snape's classes paid off, Malfoy?" Harry arched his eyebrow at Draco.

"I usually paid attention, Potter," Draco drawled.

"Unless the Ferret was trying to sabotage our potions." Ron elbowed Harry, and the two barked in laughter.

Hearing their banter, Draco essayed a weak smile. Harry's words had caused the tight knot of worry to settle once more on his mind. His foray into Diagon Alley had been fruitless, and he needed answers to the puzzling questions that haunted him.

"I'm finally done here," Luna said with a faint smile as she walked towards them. She stood next to Harry and craned her neck to gaze at the tinsel star atop the leaning tree, cradled by a huge melon. "The Glimpies won't be able to swallow that."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Luna."

She fingered the beads of her necklace. "I need to go home, Harry. I still haven't finished homework. I've got the runes stuff figured out, but I need help with Arithmancy."

"You've consulted Hermione?" Harry said, nudging up the rim of his glasses with his finger.

"No I haven't."

"She's at home. Called me on the telly last night."

Harry snorted at that. "The telephone, you mean."

"Whatever, mate."

"I'll visit with her, then," Luna said airily.

Draco seized the chance to get another opinion on his problem. Despite his past differences with Granger, he had to admit she performed superbly at potions; surely Granger would love to help her friend.

"Lovegood, do you mind if I tag along?" said Draco in a diffident tone that made Harry arch his eyebrows. "There's one Arithmantic problem I haven't quite got the hang of."

"Sure, Draco. You can come." She skipped towards the entrance, calling out to Harry, "It was a pleasure helping you fend off the Bobbing Glimpies."

"Bye, Luna. Was a pleasure having you both," said Harry softly.

oOoOo

Harry leaned his cheek on the cold windowpane, his gaze following the silhouette of Draco nearing the corner. He sighed as his fingertips idly traced the intricate lattice of the frosted glass. The pattern of the ice reminded him of the images he glanced in the kaleidoscope he made for Dudley so long ago, when all the dangers he faced were circumscribed to his menacing uncle.

He took a deep breath and muttered goodbye to the disappearing figure clad in black. Then he stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket and made his way to the parlor, cracking a smile at the oddly decorated tree.

He noticed several parchments upon the table, and with a fond smile he recalled Luna mentioning her homework. Shaking his head at the forgetfulness of his Ravenclaw friend, Harry leaned down to pick up Luna's parchments, but then he noticed something odd: the glossy edge of a picture peeked out from between the parchments.

He fished out the photograph and when he glanced at it, he felt as if a troll had punched him in the stomach with his club. It depicted Draco, his blond mane swirling around his head and framing his chiseled features. Luna must have taken the picture during the time Draco helped her fix her home, Harry decided.

His gaze slid down the toned chest of the blond, down to his sculpted abs which made his mouth water. Shuddering, Harry fingered the glossy picture, wondering if Draco's skin would feel just as soft.

With a soft moan, he closed his eyes and imagined Draco above him, those silky locks caressing his face as he kissed him, chest touching chest, abs to abs. Harry's fingers would trail the ridges of those smooth muscles as they made love.

Harry's girth throbbed, uncomfortably trapped against his too-tight trousers. He clutched the photograph as he dashed towards the stairs, intent on making his way to his room to relieve his burgeoning problem.

 _This settles it,_ Harry thought. _Draco's got to be mine, he can be nobody else's._


	5. Five

"Lovegood, are you sure it's ok?" Draco stuck his hands in his pockets, staring down at the welcome mat in front of the door.

"It'll be fine, you'll see." Luna tiptoed and pressed the ring button. "The heliopaths stayed out of our way, which allowed us to have a lot of fun today, right?"

The door slid open and Hermione peered at them, motioning with her hand. "Hi, Luna, please come in. You too, Malfoy."

"Granger." Draco nodded curtly and stepped into the house, following Luna.

"Ron called me on the phone," Hermione said with a fond smile. "Fortunately, it was I who answered; else mom would've had to endure his shouting."

"Perhaps he's training for when he meets a Crumpled-Horned Snorkack," Luna said judiciously. "Those fellows are hard of hearing."

"Perhaps," said Hermione noncommittally as she guided them to the living room.

Draco lagged behind, staring fixedly at the tastefully decorated Christmas tree. It certainly lacked Luna's odd adornments which gave it a somewhat banal air, Draco decided. The staircase was spacious and filled with light, the iron-wrought banister peppered with red garlands.

He shook his head at the thought that the Manor, for all the wealth it boasted, lacked the homey warmth he could feel all around him. Then his gaze slid down to the bottom of the tree, where a row of neatly potted white flowers stood in a row, like toy soldiers defending the tree.

From her vantage point on the couch, Hermione followed Draco's gaze and called out to him, "Those are lilies."

She turned to Luna and patted her arm. "Harry's coming over in Boxing Day, you know? I wanted to have something special just for him."

Draco sighed, and then he made his way to the living room to sit on the lounge chair in front of them. "Very thoughtful of you, Granger."

"Hermione, I wanted to consult you because I'm struggling with the last Arithmantic problem," said Luna.

"I have to admit that was a though one." Hermione gazed at her hands. "Took me half a day to finish it."

"So, how did you do it?" said Luna.

"The teacher asked us to choose which potion ingredient would work better for an improved Wolfsbane based on their Arithmantic properties, remember?"

Draco shuddered at Hermione's words. It seemed everything he touched today, everything he did reminded him inexorably of the conundrum he faced.

"The trouble is that Professor Vector said we could use any ingredient." Luna nodded somberly. "Suppose I choose wormwood, and the calculations turn up a satisfying number. How do I know it's the ideal one? What if there is a better ingredient?"

"Well, I used an algorithm to find the cutoff point," Hermione conceded. "I found it on the _Journal of Arithmantic Proceedings_ which I read on the flight back from Australia." Then she glanced at Draco. "Did you solve that problem?"

Draco sighed as he crossed his long legs. "I did solve it, though not in the elegant way you did. Actually, I recalled Severus mentioning how hard it was to brew Wolfsbane. He pointed out alternative ingredients he had in mind, which considerably narrowed the field."

oOoOo

"School talk too boring for you?" Hermione said as she stood on the threshold of the kitchen.

Draco glanced up from his silent contemplation of the coffee machine and shrugged. "You could say that."

"So, what really brings you here?" She made her way to the sink and opened the cabinet above, taking out a glass which she filled with water.

Draco licked his lips, suddenly unsure about unburdening himself.

"Come on! I'm not going to bite you," Hermione said between sips.

"It's about Potter, and my family." Draco took a deep breath and reclined his back against the sink, his gaze fixed on the immaculate kitchen island.

"Your father is still mad at Harry?" Hermione put the glass on the sink and pulled up a chair, sitting down slowly.

"It's not that," he said in a low voice. "Mother told me about her ancestors; turns out that some of them had the gift of prophetic dreams, and…."

Draco trailed off, his fingers idly rubbing the rim of the glass on the sink.

"And?" Hermione prodded him.

"I've had disturbing dreams of Potter," Draco said, his words coming out in a rush. "I am in a dark room; seems to be a Potions lab because the walls are filled with shelves which hold untold number of jars."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him while Draco wrapped his arms around his torso, his blond mane shining in the bright kitchen light.

"In the dream, my body feels somehow different." Draco opened his arms, spreading his fingers. "Bigger than normal, exactly the way I felt after I woke up from a fever when I had dragon pox."

"You see Harry in the room?" said Hermione tentatively as she heard to soft rustle of Luna's dress near the refrigerator.

"No, Potter isn't there. I'm looking for him, though. I know he's near and he eludes me, like he always does." He puffed out a tired breath. "Just like the Snitch slipping from my fingers every time."

He tilted down his chin to stare at the linoleum floor. "I walk towards the shelf and start rummaging through it. After all, playing with potions has always soothed me."

"And what happens then?" said Luna in a lilting voice, her gaze fixed on the Slytherin.

"I pick up a jar." Draco lifted up his chin and gazed at Hermione. "There's something floating inside, a tiny body swimming in the liquid." He turned to look at Luna. "Harry's inside the bottle. He's been trapped in a potion."

The pallor of Draco's face was proof of his inner turmoil. Hermione felt her heart thudding madly against her ribs at the thought of her best friend facing even more hardships.

"You think someone's going to harm Harry?" she said. "Catch him through a potion?"

Draco nodded wearily, and then he plopped down on the chair next to Hermione.

"What if you're wrong, Draco?" Luna said. "What if it is not a potion at all that threatens Harry?"


	6. Six

"What do you mean, Lovegood?" Draco eyed Luna sharply, and then he stood up and walked towards the kitchen door.

"I noticed you have four Christmas stockings next to the tree," she said, glancing at Hermione. Luna shook her head minutely, having noticed the gaily decorated tree with its motif of Slytherin and Gryffindor Christmas baubles, although she wasn't sure the decorations would last. They were just the right size to become fodder for the marauding Bobbing Glimpies.

"Mom insists on it." Hermione nodded, brushing a lock of hair off her forehead. "She hung them up for Ron, Harry, dad, and me."

Draco leaned on the doorframe, and scowled at the Ravenclaw. "What's your point, Luna?"

"What if the person that wants to harm Harry just stuck him in the jar like it was a Christmas stocking? They could have used a Dark curse to do it instead of a potion."

"Much as I enjoy the idea of Potter as a gift…" Draco trailed off, his cheeks blushing crimson when he realized he was giving away his interest in Harry. He tilted down his chin and turned his back, murmuring exasperatedly, "Luna, I recall distinctly the dream. It was a potions lab. Remember I told you about the shelves?"

"It was your subconscious," Hermione said reasonably. "I've watched you in Potions, Malfoy, and noticed it is one of the few places you were comfortable in." She clenched her hands as she muttered through her teeth, "I refuse to believe in Divination and portends; hogwash, I say! These prophetic dreams are just puzzles in which the subconscious attempts to create order out of subliminal hints our walking minds are too busy to notice!"

Draco exchanged a knowing glance with Luna during Hermione's passionate outburst, and then Luna shrugged nonchalantly.

"Be that as it may, I believe Potter's in danger." Draco's fingers ruffled his blond mane as he started pacing to and fro. "Bloody Slughorn doesn't listen to me, though. Went to the Apothecary in Diagon Alley but got no answers!"

Hermione tapped her sneakers on the floor, her arms crossed. "Let me consult my books. The Moste Potente…"

"Already researched it, Granger," Draco growled.

"Four eyes are better than two, and for Merlin's sake, call me Hermione!" she huffed.

"Fine. I will, Granger."

Hermione was about to retort when she heard swooshing sounds coming from the living room.

"That must be Ron on the Floo," she told them, making her way to the door. "Thank Merlin I convinced dad to build another fireplace."

oOoOo

She was just in time to haul Harry up from the floor. He smiled boyishly at her while her thumb set his askew glasses to rights.

"Sorry to barge in, Hermione." He fished in the pocket of his jacket and brought out a sheaf of crumpled parchment. "Luna forgot this; I think it's her homework." He looked around with a searching gaze. "She and Malfoy are here?"

She cocked her head at the kitchen. "In there." Her fingers grabbed her wand in the pocket of her jeans to clean up the speck of ash perched on Harry's nose, but then she heard the annoying ring of the telephone.

"Excuse me for a minute. Must be one of dad's patients," she said, shooting Harry a warm grin.

While Hermione attended the call, Harry walked across the living room, his ears pricking up at the sound of Draco's drawl.

"I don't think he's ready to hear that."

"You've got to tell Harry!"

"I'm not sure it's the right moment, Luna!"

"You can't let him go on like that!"

Harry's chest throbbed as his fingers crumpled up the parchment even more. So Draco had gotten together with Luna, and they were discussing how to break the news to him!

 _No wonder the pair of betraying blonds look so cozy together,_ he thought, his brow clouding as his lips curled up in a snarl. The Slytherin side of Harry's mind started picturing scenarios of how to get his way with the strapping blond, but then he heard Luna say exasperatedly, "You don't think Harry deserves to know the danger he faces?"

"You've seen how peaceful he looks lately, and you want me to add to his worries?" said Draco slowly.

His jealousy assuaged, Harry beamed at that. It was unsettling to face new dangers, sure, but it was something he was used to.

"Luna!" he called out as he barged into the room, a look of innocence settling upon his handsome features as he waved his arm. "You forgot this at my house."

Luna glanced at him, her eyes widening in surprise. "So that's where it was! Thank you, Harry; I thought the Glimpies had snuck up on me unawares."

She prodded Draco on the chest one last time before skipping towards Harry, who handed her the parchments.

Tilting down her chin to gaze at the crumpled vellum while her hair cascaded around her alabaster neck, Luna frowned. "It's funny; I thought I had brought the photo I took during summer." She craned her neck to look at Draco. "Wanted to show it to you."

"Err, maybe you forgot?" Harry mumbled, averting his gaze from Draco's prying look.

"You look like a street urchin, although an adorable one. You've got ash on your face." The Slytherin sauntered towards Harry, lifting up his hand to brush his thumb against the bridge of Harry' nose, both of them shuddering at the contact.

"Thanks," Harry whispered, blushing heatedly.

Draco smirked at Harry, and then he wiggled his eyebrows at Luna. "Refresh my memory, Lovegood, was that the photo you took while I was laying that brick wall on the sun?"

"The same," Luna said.

"Wonder what happened to it," Draco drawled, his fingers brushing Harry's arm in a knowing gesture.

Harry wanted so much to brush that smirk off the blond git's face by kissing him; so instead, in order to avoid the temptation, he nudged Draco's elbow.

"Who cares?" He shrugged. "I couldn't help overhearing you two, though. So tell me, what is it this danger you were talking about?"


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning: NSFW** manip

Draco fidgeted, shooting an imploring look towards Luna. He didn't want to tell Harry about his dream and he was loath to burden further Harry's shoulders. The Gryffindor had looked so at ease this Hogwarts term, free from the Dark Lord's threats.

But Luna just cocked her eyebrows at him, and Harry's glare told him he was losing patience.

"Fine, Potter, you want to know the truth?" Draco raised his arms and said in a loud voice, "I had a dream which family history leads me to believe may be prophetic!"

Draco expected Harry to object heatedly, but instead he nodded calmly, his unruly hair limned by the light shining through the kitchen window in the dusk.

"I studied the Black tapestry, Malfoy." Harry offered by way of explanation. Scuffing his boots in the linoleum floor, he peered at Draco over his fringe. "I take it the dream was about me?"

Luna nodded at Hermione, who was standing just inside the kitchen, having dealt with the telephone call. Hermione was about to offer her interpretation of Draco's dreams, but something in the stance of the boys dissuaded her. The hint of tension that always framed Harry's broad shoulders was absent, and despite the obvious awkwardness of the boys, there was a certain relaxed atmosphere in the kitchen.

Then again, Hermione reflected wryly, that might have to do with the comforting scent of thyme and cinnamon wafting down from the spice rack. At any rate, she decided to bide her time and allow their conversation to flow freely.

Draco was fighting to control the blush tainting his cheeks. He had told Luna and Hermione the gist of the dream, but there were aspects to it he didn't feel confident in sharing with the girls – shades of the vision that mortified and shamed him because of the sharp spike of desire they evoked in him.

"Come on, Malfoy, spill it!" Harry said, growing impatient with the Slytherin; though he had to admit Draco looked quite fetching when he was being shy.

"Not here, Potter," Draco muttered through clenched teeth. "Somewhere more private, please."

"You can always go to the Tower." Luna coughed into her fist. "Very cozy place, with interesting ghosts."

"That's nice, Luna," Hermione said with a sigh. "I read it's quite drafty, though." She pursed her lips and looked sharply at the boys. They obviously needed the open space and comfort of a crowd around them to spill their pent-up feelings - at least she hoped they would do that instead of throwing hexes at each other.

"I've got the perfect suggestion which is educational, too," she said softly. "Unfortunately I can't go with you; mom needs my help getting the house ready for the holidays."

"Can't go with you either. I've got to go home to dad," Luna said with a shrug. Judging from Harry and Draco's flustered faces, she knew the seed she had judiciously planted with Draco's photo would yield fruit.

oOoOo

Harry snuggled into his coat as he made his way from Nelson's Column towards Draco, whose long legs easily carried him across Trafalgar Square. In the throng of people enjoying a quiet Christmas break in the center of London, Draco's blond mane was striking, and it drew Harry in like a magnet.

The brightly lit spire of St. Martin-in-the-Fields to his right coaxed a smile out of him; Hermione had dragged him and Ron to a classical concert there. Needless to say, he and Ron had bantered through most of it, which hadn't pleased Hermione at all.

Harry dashed towards Draco, catching up with him just in front of the fountain next to the humongous Christmas tree.

"So you saw me swimming inside a bottle?" he said, the import of Draco's dream weighing down his mood.

Draco nodded somberly, his gaze fixed on the imposing façade of the National Gallery, and then he turned towards Harry. "That wasn't all, Potter."

Harry arched his eyebrows and prodded him. "There's more?"

"You have to understand there wasn't any rhyme or reason to the images in my dreams, they were disjointed, like a flash of the Golden Snitch flying away from me." Draco lifted his eyebrows at Harry. "It may be that Granger's right and this is all about my subconscious desires."

"But you don't think so," Harry said firmly.

"No, they were too sharp to be just vapors of my imagination." Draco took a deep breath and then said in a rush. "There was a brightly lit dungeon with a stone table. Upon the stony slab there was a broken goblet out of which smoke drifted towards the ceiling."

"By Merlin, that sounds ominous!" Harry said, his fingers itching to reach out and try to smooth the creases of worry that marred Draco's chiseled face.

Draco nodded and turned away from Harry, staring at the points of light dotting the Christmas tree. "That wasn't all, Potter. Up until that moment I wasn't sure it was you in my dream, though the body swimming inside the jar was smooth and toned like yours."

Draco bit his tongue and scuffed his dragonhide boots on the floor, averting his gaze from Harry, who was smiling broadly at Draco's words which echoed his own feelings.

"What made you sure it was me?"

"I saw you crouching on the top of the jar." Draco stuck his hands in the pockets of his coat, his breath puffing up in the cold winter night as he went on. "You were gazing down; your glasses perched firmly on your nose as you gripped the edge of the stopper so as not to fall down."

"Did I defend myself in your dream?" Harry said wonderingly. "Hope I cast a spell on the bloody wizard that held me!"

"There was no one else, Harry, and you couldn't cast a spell because you had no wand, no robes, nothing. You were completely bare." Draco blushed so fiercely, he wondered if he looked as red as the Christmas lights on the tree.

"I was naked?" said Harry, a bit ashamed at being bare in Draco's dream, strange as it seemed.

"So, was I hung?" He nudged Draco's back.

"Didn't pay much attention." Draco lied, omitting the fact that after he woke up he had wanked himself raw at the imagery in the dream.

"You're lying, git," said Harry fondly. "Admit it, Malfoy; judging from your reactions, I must've looked great in that dream of yours!

Draco turned to face him, and poked him in the chest with his finger. "In your dreams, Potter!"

"You mean, in _your_ dream, Draco." Harry stepped towards Draco, his fingers snaking a trail from the alabaster neck up to his flushed cheek, marveling at Draco's soft skin.

"You wish, Potter!" Draco's lips curled up in his trademark lopsided smirk, and Harry acted on impulse. He did what he had wanted to do for a long time, what would have happened long ago if both had been free from the expectations imposed on them by the Wizarding World.

He kissed Draco, his tongue rubbing against the chapped lips to seek entrance which was readily granted.

It was a brief kiss with not too much tongue, both of them shivering in the cold and the emotions swelling up inside them.

Tinged as it was by nervousness at displaying their affection in public, nevertheless it was the best kiss in Harry's life.

Neither Cho nor Ginny could compare to Draco, Harry decided. There was something liberating, intoxicating even, in running his fingers through Draco's silky hair and smelling the cologne that enveloped him, as vital and fresh as the feelings Draco always evoked in him.


	8. Eight

 

 

The two wizards strolled through the center of London. Snuggling into his coat, Harry's fingers brushed occasionally the soft skin of Draco's wrist.

When they rounded a corner and Harry saw the sign which said Cockspur Street, he blushed and averted his eyes, a fact which was duly noted by Draco.

He nudged Harry's elbow and cocked his head at the wall. "A Knut for your thoughts."

Harry didn't answer at first; he just stuck his hands in his pockets and stared resolutely at the end of the street, where a double-decker bus was ambling by.

To divert the Slytherin's naughty mind, he finally said, "So what do you make of this dream of yours?"

Harry regretted his question when he noticed Draco's shoulders drooping, his gaze lowering to stare down at the cobbled street.

"Someone wants to capture you."

"Tell me something new," Harry snorted.

"Notice my words," he said, grabbing Harry's hand, his fingers clenching around his wrist as his voice slowly rose. "They don't simply want to kill you, but to hang you out to dry like a bloody potions specimen!"

"Malfoy." Harry said, trying to yank his hand away from Draco's inexorable fingers.

"You were alive inside that jar; I saw your body moving!"

He glanced sideways at Harry and when he saw his grimace of pain, he let go of him, shrugging uncomfortably. "Sorry, I just get so angry at these stupid Dark wizards, always concocting evil plans and wrecking people's lives!"

Harry nodded slowly, his mind recalling the horrid visions he had during the War, showing how Voldemort belittled and abused Draco and his family. He wondered how to broach the tender subject; for all of Draco's composure, he had noticed the blond hardly mentioned his parents.

Harry touched the red telephone booth on the corner and then stepped from the curb, glancing at Draco. "Reckon Voldemort did a number on all of us, right?" Taking a deep breath, he said in a rush, "How are your parents, by the way? Haven't seen them since the trials."

Having crossed the street, Draco tilted up his chin to stare at the façade of the Edwardian building in front of them which was framed by the skeletal limbs of the winter trees.

"They're fine, Potter." He shrugged tiredly. "Going out of their minds with boredom, since they can't venture out of the Manor due to their house arrests."

"They were lucky to escape with only that," Harry said as he made way for a beefy man who was burdened with shopping bags. "The Wizengamot sent most former Death Eaters to Azkaban."

"I know, Harry, and I'm thankful to you and your friends." Draco stopped for a moment to gaze at the window display of a bookshop, his fingers tracing restless patterns on the frosty glass. "Actually, I'm glad they're cooped up. They don't have to endure the sight of people scoffing at them."

"Reckon that's good, then." Harry's heart skipped a beat, watching the slim silhouette of the tall Slytherin, his blond hair fanning over his shoulders.

"Strange Muggle books, they don't move at all," Draco mumbled, watching Harry out of the corner of his eyes and fighting to hide his smirk.

Harry stepped towards him and glanced at the window, their joint reflections on the glass bringing up memories of that first encounter with Draco at Madam Malkin's years ago. So many things had changed in the intervening time, battles joined and won, friends irretrievably lost and mourned, victories bitterly won.

And yet, at the end of it all, Harry and Draco were together at last.

"It's magic," Harry said with a catch in his voice, and if Draco would have used Legilimency on him, he would have surely gleaned the deeper meaning behind Harry's laconic reply.

"Indeed." Draco sighed; he gave a soft pat to the window and walked away from the store. "I should buy some books for Father to read. Take his mind off the Dark Lord's ravings."

"Call him Voldemort."

Draco shot Harry a tentative smile. "Give me time. The conditioning is hard to break, you know. Granger's always insisting on it, too."

"Hermione can get on your nerves, but her heart's in the right place."

Draco nodded, his fingers clutching Harry's elbow as they walked along the street, the soft thudding sounds of the passers-by punctuating the stroll.

"Father often talks about what he would have done differently in the War." Draco glanced up at the bright lights up ahead and tugged Harry by the hand, cocking his head at the sight in front of them. "Come on, let's go there."

As the two made their way to join the throng of people enjoying the Christmas break, Harry said, "Do tell what Lucius would have done differently."

"He says the Dark Lord was always trying to kill you," Draco said, lowering his voice when they approached a knot of people. "He never took a moment to figure out what made you different, why your powers are so phenomenal."

"Voldemort was a barmy old fool!" Harry growled.

"There were times the Dark Lord mused about you," Draco said, his fingers reaching for Harry's arm and the reassurance of his presence. "Then Severus would point out that it was beneath him to take notice of you."

Harry gulped, his mind returning inexorably to the desolation of Snape's last moments in the Shrieking Shack.

Draco noticed the downcast stance of Harry's shoulders and dragged him towards the handrail on the edge of the outdoor skate rink. It was brightly lit by the lampposts surrounding it and the lights strung along the limbs of the nearby trees.

The boys leaned down on the rail and glanced down at the people inside the skate rink, huggling together in search of warmth. The sight of the brunet and the blond didn't fail the draw the gaze of the skaters, and a teenage waved his hand in greeting.

"It's a fine night, isn't it?" Draco wiggled his eyebrows at Harry, delighting in the way the intense light reflecting up from the rink illuminated his handsome features, making his green eyes seem even more vivid than usual.

"You're right, Draco." Harry's thumb rubbed against the inside of Draco's wrist. The sight of the people having fun lifted his spirits while his nostrils flared, breathing in the scent of winter and Draco.


	9. Nine

Harry yawned widely, and then rubbed his face with the palm of his hand. He hadn't slept much after coming home last night, the memory of his stroll with Draco still fresh on his mind. In the cold daylight, he was amazed he had had the guts to pull off that kiss, to risk Draco's displeasure in order to find out if the attraction he felt for him was reciprocated.

Harry's lips quirked in a smile while his fingers brushed across his mouth, recalling the soft touch of Draco.

He turned towards the door at the sound of the shuffling steps he was well acquainted with. Sure enough, it was Kreacher; the house-elf eyed him suspiciously, the tufts protruding from his big ears the same color as the boxes of Christmas light he was holding up for Harry's inspection.

"Master's friend sent him this," Kreacher said, gazing balefully at the Christmas tree on the corner.

"Thanks, Kreacher." Harry pointed at a spot in front of the fireplace. "Leave it there."

"Kreacher trusts Master had a good time with the young Malfoy master," the elf mumbled under his breath before craning his neck to gaze up at Harry, his rheumy eyes shining with interest.

"None of your business, Kreacher." Harry scowled at the elf.

Kreacher dragged his feet as he made his way to the door. "Master is interested in a pureblood that isn't right for him."

Harry blushed and walked towards the corner, muttering a curse under his breath. He fixed his gaze on the framed portraits of his friends on the table: Neville waving his hand before bending down to pick up a potted plant which tried to bite his hand; Seamus shooting him a grin before hugging Dean Thomas; Cho donning her Quidditch gloves, and Ron playing chess with Hermione, though she appeared to be completely engrossed reading a huge tome perched on her lap.

Harry ruffled his hair before taking out the Christmas lights, laying them down on top of the box, his fingers rubbing the fine wire connecting them. He crouched down to stare at the bright red and green bulbs, powered by some kind of spell Hermione had devised.

His gaze strayed to the photos of his friends, their cheerful attitude evoking in him a sense of dread. How was he supposed to break the news that he and Draco were a couple? How would they react?

It was true that the past Hogwarts term had seen them all too busy catching up with their studies to care much about shady allegiances; the Wizengamot trials had a lot to do with it, Harry thought. The former Death Eaters were judged harshly but fairly under the rules enacted by Minister Shacklebolt, and that in turn instilled a sense of security in the staff and students at Hogwarts. There wasn't a hint of the whitewashing and corruption which was common under Fudge.

There were Death Eater remnants, though; Dark wizards that had supported Voldemort but were too coward to take part in the Final Battle and too sly to turn up in the Aurors' radar. Every once in a while, Harry read in the Daily Prophet about the Aurors catching one of them.

Harry shrugged, realizing that the Malfoys' house arrest somehow benefitted Draco because Lucius was unable to get in trouble by courting the Dark wizards.

His lips curled up in a tiny smile when he thought about Draco. He wasn't the obnoxious prat he had been before the War. The few Slytherins from his year that had returned managed to blend in with the rest of the students, not without the occasional hex or curse when tempers flared hot.

A flicker of green in the fireplace caught his attention. The flames leaped up and a distinct shape with broad shoulders took shape, topped by the characteristic mop of Weasley red hair.

Ron stumbled out of the fire, managing to recover his equilibrium after a few seconds. He brushed the ashes off shoulders clad in one of Molly's bright orange sweaters.

"Sorry, mate," he said, looking at Harry through his fringe. "Mom wanted me to help her with the Christmas decorations, and since Ginny is Merlin knows where with Dean, I had to pitch in."

"Reckon that's fine," Harry picked up the boxes with the Christmas lights and ambled towards the tree. He glanced at Ron and nudged up his glasses with the corner of the topmost box. "What about the twins?"

"Mom didn't want to bother them. Too busy with their shop, she said." Ron shrugged, and then walked towards him to pick up the lights, swinging the line of tiny bulbs towards the tree. "Besides, after the scare Fred gave her in the Final Battle, she coddles them too much."

"It was awful watching that big rock fall on Fred's head." Harry shivered, recalling the frightful day in which so many Hogwarts students and good wizards died.

Ron nudged aside one of Luna's decorations, a big melon, and tried to find an empty space to hang the lights. His eyebrows pursed in concentration, he glanced sideways at Harry. "Fred was lucky they were testing that petrifying potion on him."

Harry nodded. "Makes the body tough as stone." He leaned down to thread the wire through the limbs of the tree, but gave up when he noticed a big papaya blocking the only way.

Ron took a step back and gazed at the lights he had hung, which were strewn haphazardly upon the tree. There were several spots which would have to remain dark, he decided, unless Harry decided to take off Luna's weird Christmas ornaments.

"Yeah, mate. Have to admit the twins are pretty good with potions; they got in a tiff with Professor Slughorn, though."

"Why?"

"Turns out Slughorn hoarded some ingredients they need to brew their potion. Would you believe those gits even went to Hogwarts to talk with him?" Ron shook his head fondly. "Didn't matter, the old codger wouldn't listen though they hold a place of honor in his Slug Club."

"Slughorn fawns over the Gryffindors who fought in the Final Battle," Harry said, finally giving up and laying down the lights on the floor. He'd get Kreacher to put them up, using his elf magic.

"It's like Slughorn wants to stick us in his pocket, just to have influence," Ron scoffed. "Bloody Slytherins!"

"Err, Ron…" Harry trailed off, not sure how to drop the bombshell of his relationship with Draco.

"Yes, mate?" Ron gazed sharply at Harry. "You look pale. You didn't drink anything Malfoy gave you or anything? That's how he got the twins, you know."

"No, it isn't that." Harry scoffed his loafers on the floor. He gazed at Ron, his heart beating madly in his chest as he gathered the courage to take the plunge.

"What is it, Harry?" Ron lifted his eyebrow in questioning.

"I'm going out with Draco," Harry mumbled under his breath. "He isn't that bad of a git after all, and since I like blokes and all, I thought that…" He stopped, gazing at Ron with bated breath; he noticed his friend had a thoughtful look on his face.

"So you're going out with Malfoy – as in, going out?"

"Yes, I am. He's the one that…"

"Oi, stop it!" Ron said, spreading his arms. "I don't want to know what you and Malfoy get up to."

"Oh." Harry's shoulders drooped.

"Mate," Ron said softly. "I'll say it just this once, so listen good. We've been through hell and back, ran from that infernal fire, battled the basilisk and so on." He reached out his hand to pat Harry's shoulder. "You got my back and I got yours, so it doesn't matter if you go out with Draco. He isn't the worst bloke at Hogwarts."

"Good endorsement, mate," Harry quipped.

"Well, you could have chosen worse," Ron said reasonably. "Zacharias Smith, for instance. I reckon I'm cool with it, if it's what you really want."

Harry beamed at that while Ron's piercing blue eyes stared at him. "He'd better be good, Harry. He had better treat you right."


	10. Ten

  
  
Draco paused in front of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, narrowing his eyes at the assortment of wares displayed upon the red tablecloth behind the window. Being well acquainted with the twins' ingenuity, he shuddered at the boxes which held Boxing Telescopes, Anti-Gravity Hats, and Thestral Thrashers.

His attention was drawn to a nearly empty corner of the display. Draco crouched to gaze at the neat square glasses, each one etched with sundry snowflakes and holding a lit candle nestled in aromatic herbs, to judge from the sweet scent wafting through. Draco's nostrils flared as he greedily inhaled the aroma which reminded him of pleasant days in his childhood, when Narcissa would put a sachet holding chamomile, hops, valerian, and lavender inside his trunk.

Each of the four glasses was etched with a letter of the alphabet which together spelled 'Noel'. Draco snorted at that, doubting that the irrepressible twins would follow the peaceful Christmas spirit.

Nevertheless, he needed their advice, so this cold December morning he had to brave the lions' den.

Draco stood up and squared his shoulders as he made his way inside. The gaudy boxes of magical mischief sitting jauntily in neat rows upon the shelves looked almost innocent; this early in the morning, there were hardly any wizards and witches poking and jostling each other as they perused the labels.

One of the twins waved at Draco. "Oi, Malfoy! What brings a git like you here?"

"I need advice, Fred," he said curtly, scowling at the twin.

The twin stuck his hands in the pockets of his striped trousers and sauntered towards him, his lanky frame reaching to the upper shelves. "What have you done this time, old boy?"

"Nothing," muttered Draco.

He leered knowingly at Draco. "You want to catch Zacharias' eye, do you?"

"By Merlin's beard, no!" Draco huffed.

"Wonder who's the lucky bloke that caught the fancy of the Slytherin Prince, sunk as he is in the lowly morass of his despondency in the trying days of…"

"Cut it out, Fred!" growled Draco. "And for your information, it's Potter!"

"Oh, I didn't expect that at all, old chap." Fred rubbed his hands gleefully. "Can't wait to see all the hexes and curses flying around when you two have a lover's tiff. It's going to be bloody gorgeous!"

"That's not going to happen!" Draco said, raising his arms in exasperation. "Don't know why I bothered to come here!"

"Do tell why you visited us, Draco," George said from the threshold. Ambling towards them, he fished out from the pockets of his striped jacket a small jar which he lay down on the counter.

"Is that the new prototype, Forge? Did you get the kinks out of it yet?" Fred said, his eyes twinkling with excitement as he glanced at the bottle that held a bright red heart which throbbed on and on, growing in size before shrinking again.

"It's working, though there's a flaw." George conceded with a shrug. "Can't get the potion to work correctly."

"What's it supposed to do?" Draco said, lowering his hand to grab the jar.

George kept him from doing that, though; he closed his fingers around Draco's forearm, squeezing him tight. "Careful, Malfoy; bloody thing is unstable, if you open the stopper it will explode and cover you with gore."

"So it's just another prank," Draco said as he yanked his arm free.

"Actually, old chap," Fred said, looking sharply at Draco. "It's supposed to be all lovey-dovey. When you open the jar? The heart should pop out and float right up to your soul mate."

"We've gotten rid of some nasty side effects," George gazed down at Draco, fingering the lapel of his suit. "Now it won't force anyone into an irreversible mating bond!"

"Told you that was a neat result, Forge," Fred said, glowering at his twin.

"You would think so, old chap, but what if you open it and the heart decides to irreversibly bond you to Romilda Vane?"

The three wizards shuddered at that.

"The potion we're brewing ought to work!" Fred said, slapping his fist into his open palm. "Just needs some tweaking, is all."

"Good luck with that, Gred. Bloody Slughorn hoarded all the dragon's blood we need." George's lips pursed as he scowled at the jar.

"We could do what we did with the _petrificatis_ potion," Fred said slowly.

Draco's ears pricked up at that. When Ron bantered with his brothers while they all repaired the Burrow, the twins had been tight-lipped about the way they brewed that potion.

"You mean, look up a replacement through Arithmancy?" George said wonderingly. Glancing at Draco from the corner of his eyes, he noticed his uncomprehending look so he hastened to add, "In order to harden certain parts of the body, the potion required basilisk's eyes to simulate the effect of being turned to stone."

"You can imagine they were hard to come by." Fred shrugged. "So we searched an alternative using the results provided by Arithmancy."

Draco puzzled his eyebrows in thought, recalling the conversation between Bellatrix and Rookwood during the Dark Lord's presence in the Manor. His aunt had gloated of her master's knowledge in the intricate details of Arithmancy when he devised the Dark curse that drew his attention to whomever spoke his dreadful name. Hearing that, Draco had crossed his fingers, hoping that Potter abstained from uttering the Dark Lord's name. But of course, the handsome git had to do just that and get captured by the Snatchers, forcing Draco to…

"Oi, Malfoy! Come back to Earth!" said George, nudging his shoulder. "Quit thinking about sweet Zacharias!"

"You're wrong," said Fred with a knowing leer. "Our ickle dragon has fallen for his fellow Seeker!"

"Knew it!" crowed George. "Gred, you owe me five Galleons!"

"Git!" grumbled Fred. "Shouldn't have made that bet."

Draco shook his head and returned to the present. He reclined on the counter and glanced at the twins. "Why don't you get the older Weasley to send you dragon's blood?"

"Charlie wouldn't harm one of his precious dragons for us." Fred said with a scowl.

"Besides, he's still angry at us for the Samhain prank we pulled on him," George said in a low voice. "Resentful git that he is. We'll just have to spend time on the potions lab."

"Maybe consult Hermione; she's good in Arithmancy."

"So am I," said Draco resentfully.

"But you're going to be busy wooing Harry," said Fred, smirking at Draco. "You had better do a good job because Harry spends too much time brooding about serious stuff."

"That's what I wanted to talk about," said Draco, his pale fingers caressing the smooth wood of the counter. "I don't know what Harry would like for Christmas."

"That's easy." George walked around the counter and called over his shoulder, "Something simple that comes from your heart, some kind of romantic gesture."

Fred nodded sagely. "May we interest you in Decoy Detonators? They will come in handy when you fight with Harry."

Draco glared at him. "No, thanks."

It seemed like his journey to the twins' store had been in vain, though Draco couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something had fallen into place.


	11. Eleven

Hermione's brow furrowed in concentration as she lay down a tome on the table. She took out her wand and swished it with an elegant motion while she spoke the incantation.

A foggy shape began to form above the living room table, but then her concentration wavered due to the swooshing sounds coming from the fireplace. She craned her neck to glance up at the newcomer, grimacing when the wizard ended up sprawled on the carpet.

"I'm sorry, Mione," Harry said, crouching on his knees. He grabbed the edge of the table and heaved himself up with a groan. "That bloody Floo always gets me."

"Why didn't you Apparate?" she said, sending a cleaning spell towards Harry with a flick of her wrist.

Harry nodded his thanks and walked toward the couch. "Hate the feeling of being dragged through my navel."

Hermione nodded slowly, a faint smile on her face before she glanced down at the lettering on the cover of the book she had been perusing.

Harry tilted down his chin to follow her gaze, saying slowly, " _Extreme Incantations by Violeta Stitch._ " He shot Hermione a brief smile. "Reckoned you had finished homework."

"Of course I did!" huffed Hermione. "I'm just researching."

Harry glanced around the room and then looked at Hermione, raising his eyebrows. "Funny, I could've sworn I saw Ron here when I came through the Floo."

"That was the spell I was practicing." Hermione blushed hotly. "Sit down and I'll show you."

Harry plopped down on the couch next to Hermione and looked curiously at her while she muttered under her breath what sounded like _ostende futurum_.

In front of them, a silhouette slowly took shape. It depicted a redheaded toddler with blue eyes. The boy looked oddly familiar to Harry; he could have sworn he had seen his photo in the Burrow.

"So this spell shows you the past?" he said, pointing at the image which dissolved very rapidly. "You wanted to see what Ron looked like?"

"No, Harry," Hermione said, lowering her chin so her brown hair cascaded around her face and shielded her from Harry's gaze. "It shows the future. I wanted to see what my child with Ron will look like."

"Oh, I see," Harry said slowly, not really sure what this was all about; Hermione seemed flustered, quite unlike her usual confident self.

"It's Lavender's fault," said Hermione through gritted teeth. "She was gloating that a child of hers with Ron would look very beautiful. Parvati told me all about it, and somehow…"

She brushed her hair off her face and slapped the book with her palm. "Skeeter got a hold of it! That pesky beetle must have been flying around Hogwarts, and of course she used it for her gossip column on today's Daily Prophet!"

"Don't worry," he said. "Ron doesn't care about that stuff. It doesn't matter to him what his child would look like."

Harry realized he had said the wrong thing when Hermione poked his chest and glared at him. "Of course he does! Molly and Arthur would care, too!"

Harry bit back his retort, not wanting to further exacerbate Hermione.

She stood up and then paced to and fro around the couch. "You've seen what a beautiful child our boy will be. I want to transfer the image to parchment so I can send him an owl, and shove it on Lavender's face when we return to Hogwarts!"

"That sounds like a good plan," Harry said slowly.

"The image doesn't hold, though. I've consulted the book but it's got no useful information." Hermione leaned down to grab the tome and she walked up to the shelf to put it there. "There must be a trick to pronouncing the incantation."

"Try a nonverbal spell, then."

"The spell would be far less effective, Harry," she said. "Words have intrinsic magical properties which must be taken into consideration when weaving a spell, especially those from the ancient magical tongue which is Latin."

"Can't you devise a new one?"

"That's very hard to do," said Hermione, leaning down to brush a speck of lint off Harry's sweater. "It requires matching the movement of the wrist, the inclination of the wand, and the perfect enunciation!"

Seeking to distract Hermione, Harry waved his hand at the spot where the image had appeared. "So, is that going to be what your child _will_ look like? I seem to recall you don't place any trust in divination."

"It's just a possibility." She shrugged, and then she said wonderingly, "Although the lack of faith in the intent of the spell may explain why it doesn't work that well."

"I don't like divination either," said Harry, drumming his fingers on the table.

Noting the worry stamped on his features, Hermione said softly, "Malfoy's dream got to you? I've researched his family and there are a few instances of oracular dreams."

Harry peered up at Hermione through his fringe. "Talking about Draco, there's something I have to tell you."

He was interrupted by the popping sound of elf apparition. The house-elf walked towards them and bowed deeply, her long ears almost reaching the wooden floor.

"Master Draco sent Muggy to fetch you, young sir." Her eyes sparkled when she looked at Harry, her fingers brushing the hem of her toga-like dress. "He requests the pleasure of sir's company for the evening."

"Thanks, Muggy," Harry said.

The elf glanced nervously at Hermione before giving them a shallow bow and disapparating.

"I should've insisted on freeing the house-elves." Hermione shook her head. "At least they have proper clothes now."

"Err, Hermione." Harry fidgeted on the couch. "What I wanted to tell you about Malfoy is that…"

"You got together at last."

"Ron told you?" he said, standing up.

"Come on, Harry." Hermione went to the shelf to pick up a book, calling over her shoulder, "I've got eyes, you know. Besides, you called him Draco which you have never done before. Now go see what your beau wants."

"Fine, I will." Harry shot her a glare before walking towards the fireplace.

oOoOo

Harry Apparated in front of the iron wrought gates that marked the entrance to the Manor, grimacing at the lingering feeling of the hook grabbing him by the navel. He didn't want to use the Floo, though, and risk dirtying his smart brown jacket.

Harry's thumb brushed the intertwining snakes that were the Malfoy coat of arms, and then the slab of metal opened slowly with a creaking sound. Whistling softly, he walked the narrow path framed by neatly tended hedges until he reached the entrance to the sprawling house.

He stared at the door before using the dragon-headed knocker. He didn't have to wait long, a slim alabaster hand opening the door.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter." Narcissa Malfoy waved him inside. "I would like to have a word with you about my son, if you please."


	12. Twelve

 

 

"Is Draco all right?" Harry said, stepping into the Manor. He shivered as the wards caressed his body like an ethereal mist, the sensation akin to walking through one of the Hogwarts ghosts.

"He's perfectly fine," Narcissa said in a soothing voice as she motioned towards the parlor, walking alongside Harry with effortless grace. "Muggy told me he's gone to fetch something from our Gringotts vault."

Harry's hand tapped the pocket of his trousers, feeling the reassuring bulge of his wand as he glanced around. "And where's Lucius?"

"My husband is upstairs, reading in his study. I'm afraid our house arrest has been dreadfully boring for him," Narcissa said, the corners of her lips curling up in a secretive smile. "Sometimes I wish our ambient magic would allow us to install one of those tellys Draco has mentioned."

Harry sat down on the leather couch, glancing towards the imposing marble staircase. He couldn't quite conceal his smirk as he pictured Lucius in his study, intently watching one of those reality shows, though his mood quickly deflated when he peered at the gloomy corners. The sight brought to his mind his fight with the Malfoys after Dobby freed them.

Narcissa smoothed a crease in her black gown, her eyebrows lifting at Harry's obvious discomfort. "Unfortunately, the Manor seeps with ancient magic and that won't be possible for quite some time," she said diplomatically. "Would you care for a cup of tea, Mr. Potter?"

"Not at the moment, Mrs. Malfoy. Thank you," Harry said stiffly.

"Do call me Narcissa, please." Her fingers drumming against the old leather of the couch, she said, "Draco told me of his dreams about you."

"Did he?" Harry said noncommittally.

"He sought my reassurance, expecting me to tell him the imagery was just a simple dream." Narcissa took a deep breath and went on, "I couldn't do that because there's a streak of prophetic dreaming that runs thick in our blood. Fortunately it passed me by, except for that old dream."

Harry leaned forward, watching the lines of worry stamped in Narcissa's features which betrayed the import of her words.

"What dream?" Harry prodded her.

"It's indistinct in my mind, Harry, because it happened long ago. I wrote it down on parchment upon walking up, but I'm afraid I haven't read it again." Narcissa paused, and then squared her shoulders as she gazed at the corner of the parlor, hazy in the shadowy winter light. "It was lost in the upheavals caused by that man."

Harry shivered at her solemn expression, being privy to what transpired in the lives of the Malfoys due to that cursed wisp of a wizard, Voldemort.

"At any rate, I remember the gist of the dream was seeing you and Draco together." Narcissa shook her head to rid herself of the haunting memories of living under Voldemort's thumb. "That is why my son's fascination with you has never seemed particularly odd."

Harry tilted down his chin, staring at the marble floor. Remembering their Fifth year, Harry reflected that if he was being honest with himself, he would have to admit the obsession went both ways.

"It all makes sense to me," she said, her pale fingers brushing her satin bodice. "Do you recall the Final Battle? The moment you told me my son was in the castle and alive, I felt such a rush of happiness, even gratitude towards you."

He raised his head, staring sharply at her. "I can imagine, Mrs... err, Narcissa."

Narcissa's lips curled up in a tiny smile as she shook her head fondly. "I couldn't tell the Dark Lord that you were alive, Harry. If he killed you, it would have torn Draco's heart to pieces. And I just didn't find it in me to betray you, after watching you in those woods, frail and bloody."

She glanced at the window. "The wards inform me Draco has arrived." Narcissa stood up in a graceful motion imbued with grace and bowed her head in Harry's direction. "Do take care, Harry, for the sake of my son."

oOoOo

"So what did you get from Gringotts?" Harry glanced sideways at Draco, his fingers entwining with pale ones as the boys trudged through the snow that covered the Manor gardens.

"It's a surprise." Draco shook his head, tugging Harry towards the central fountain which was framed by topiary figures depicting dragons and unicorns.

"Reckon I should be worried. It could be a cursed dagger." Harry leaned his shoulders towards Draco as they approached the raised dais in which a svelte column tapered off, ending in a shallow bowl inscribed with Celtic runes.

"I've told you it isn't." Draco shot him a glare, and then took a step towards the fountain, letting go of Harry to dip his fingers into the flowing water, and raised his hand to lick the moisture.

"Warming charm, huh?" Harry wiggled his eyebrows at him.

"Father's peacocks have to get their water from somewhere." Draco shrugged, pointing at a row of orange trees in the distance. "Same charm works over there."

"The goblins raised any objection when you took that cursed dagger?" Harry's fingers poked Draco's robes, enjoying the way his cheeks blushed as he shook his head, his blond hair fanning over his shoulders.

"You're just taking the piss, Potter!" Draco growled. He fished out a small box from the pocket of his robes and then glanced around them. "This will have to do in lieu of the Christmas tree. Wanted to wait until Christmas to give you your present."

"You got a present for me?" said Harry with bated breath.

"Indeed. Those ginger gits gave me some ideas."

"Fred and George?" Harry said wonderingly. "Hope it's not a prank."

"It's neither a prank nor a Dark object." Draco opened the lid and took out a gleaming jewel which glinted in the sunlight. "It's a Malfoy heirloom."

Draco's fingers rubbed the intricately carved dragon's heads which flanked the tiny silver sword. "This brooch has been in the family for a millennium."

He grabbed Harry's shoulder and gently clasped the jewel on the lapel of his jacket. Then he pointed at the gemstone adorning the sword's handle. "The garnet is magical; it will flash brightly if you're ever in danger. Since you're a stubborn Gryffindor who delights in courting trouble and all, I thought you needed some protection in case…"

Harry didn't let him finish; he swooped down on the flushed Slytherin like a bird of prey, his mouth closing on those delectable lips as he pushed him against the prickly hedges. Harry's fingers caressed the rough wool of Draco's robes, sliding down to grasp his slim hips and yank him towards him.

Draco snaked his hand beneath Harry's shirt; his thumb tweaking his nipple coaxed a hoarse grunt out of Harry. He canted up his chin, his nose rubbing against the rim of Harry's glasses as he writhed against him.

"I can't wait, Harry." Draco's voice was so raw that Harry shivered. "Waited too long for this."

"We were such fools." Harry mouthed the strong line of Draco's jaw, his tongue lapping up the soft skin.

In the cold winter day, the vast expanse of the snow-covered Manor garden was alive with the dash of blond and black hair, the surreal quiet around Harry and Draco occasionally broken by soft groans.


	13. Thirteen

 

 

Draco trudged through the snow, dragging Harry by the hand. Fortunately he knew the layout of the garden labyrinth guarded by the topiary beasts; else he would have wasted precious time. The throbbing need too tightly confined in his trousers could not wait.

"Draco, wait!" Harry said, his breath puffing up in the winter air as he tried to keep up with the long strides of the Slytherin. He was a bit alarmed, not that he minded the lust Draco's haste obviously evinced, but the prospect of losing his virginity made him shudder.

As the Manor brick walls loomed nearer, Harry grimaced. He didn't want his first time to happen within Draco's home, tainted as it was by the memories of the war.

Draco started walking more slowly, his shoulders shaking as the exertions of walking through thick snow finally caught up with him.

"We can't Apparate inside," he said, turning his head to smirk at Harry. "The conditions of the house arrest, you know? No one can Apparate in or out of home."

He let go of Harry and leaned down, bracing his hands on his knees as he took deep breaths.

Harry was in pretty good shape due to the time spent camping during the Horcrux hunt, so while Draco got his breath back he made his way up the terraced steps. He nudged open the French windows, peering at the brightly lit parlor.

"You need to exercise more, Malfoy." Harry wiggled his eyebrows at Draco. The glint of sunlight limning his unruly hair framed him in a winter halo, while the dash of red upon his cheeks contrasted nicely with his dark clothes.

"Care to give me a workout, Potter?" Draco drawled and stepped towards Harry, his fingers briefly cupping the perfectly formed ass which was so enticingly displayed in tight trousers.

"I'll work you over until you can't sit." The gleam of lust in Harry's eyes promised just that, Draco decided.

"Promises, promises," he said haughtily before stepping into the Manor.

Harry bit back a moan as he followed his boyfriend inside. His fingertips brushed his fringe and then his eyes widened at the display in the sparsely decorated room. The fire in the chimney crackled, its light warming the Christmas scene which consisted of a tastefully decorated tree on the corner, surrounded by a wide assortment of gaudily wrapped presents.

"Your parents coddle you much, Draco?" Harry said with a smile to take off the sting of his words. He walked towards the tree, crouching down to stare at the numerous Christmas bags from Wizarding establishments such as Twilfitt and Tatting's. Grabbing a beige bag, his fingers slid over the smooth paper which had Scrivenshaft's new logo.

Harry's attention was drawn then to a curious present which consisted of three oval boxes atop each other, diminishing in size. He let go of the bag and then gazed up at Draco, cocking his chin at the white boxes. "Reckon this is a cake, right?"

"You're wrong." Smirking down at him, Draco's hand twitched until he finally gave up to the urge and ran his fingers through Harry's tousled hair. "That is a hat Mother got for Pansy from Gladrags Wizardwear."

"Who would've thought…?" Harry trailed off when he heard the popping sound of elf apparition.

Muggy arched her eyebrows and then pointed her long fingers at Draco. "Young Master did not help decorate the tree like Mistress wanted!"

"I've told you before; I didn't feel like celebrating Christmas this year." Draco scowled at her, yet refrained from chastising the elf. He allowed her a great deal of latitude because Muggy had often been his only companion in childhood when Lucius and Narcissa travelled abroad.

"Mistress Malfoy wants Muggy to return this," she muttered as she bent down to pick up a box, and then she walked towards the door.

Harry lifted his eyebrows at Draco, who offered by way of explanation, "That gift was for Slughorn. Mother is intent on exerting her influence to pave my way through potions class. Not that I need that."

"You and Slughorn don't get along," Harry said simply.

"You could say that." Draco tugged Harry by the hand towards the staircase. "Now come with me, Potter. We have better things to do than talk about the bloody head of Slytherin who disdains his House."

oOoOo

Draco pressed Harry against the wall, nibbling the skin along the strong line of his jaw while his fingers fumbled with the belt. Harry shrugged off his jacket which fell on a heap upon the wooden floor. He panted, his eyes closed while his hand snaked beneath the rough wool of Draco's robes, tugging insistently at the buttons of his shirt.

Draco shoved his knee between Harry's legs, his thigh teasingly rubbing against Harry's crotch. Gazing down at the prominent bulge, Draco's mouth watered.

Tired of struggling with the pesky buttons, Harry yanked the hem of the shirt, causing them to tumble down with a clinking sound.

"Eager much, Harry?" Draco's lips laved a path down Harry's neck, biting lightly the skin above the hollow of his shoulder.

"Don't tease me," Harry said hoarsely.

Draco jerked at the sound of knocking on the door.

"Draco, open up," said Lucius. "Your friends are here. They came to see you."

"What?" Harry said thickly while Draco leaned his forehead against his brow.

He kissed Harry's cheek and muttered a promise low under his breath, "Later."

"Draco, are you presentable?" Pansy called out from the corridor.

Draco fished out his wand from his pocket, wincing when the slim wood rubbed the shaft of his throbbing erection.

"Course he is," said a mocking voice which Draco knew well. "He's with Potter. They are probably dueling."

Draco cast a spell to erase the telling signs of their make out session, and then shrugged an apology before sauntering to the door. When the polished Slytherin mask settled into his features so smoothly, Harry doubted for a second this composed boy had been so flushed and wanton with him.

"Hush, Theo!" Pansy said sharply. "Draco wouldn't do that."

Draco softly opened the door and nodded curtly at them. "Pansy, Theo, and Father. Such a pleasure to see you two before Christmas break ends."

Pansy shot him a smile, her eyes searching avidly inside the room for any untoward signs. She jostled Theo Nott's elbow and then glanced at Draco. "Theo was visiting with me when I got your father's owl inviting us. Couldn't miss the chance to see how you were doing."

Theo grabbed her wrist. "You've seen him, Pansy, now let's go."

"So nice of you, Father." Draco lifted his eyebrows at Lucius, who was busy scowling at Harry. "Let's have tea in the parlor."

Harry was in a bit of a daze, but he couldn't help but note Lucius was not as haggard as he had been during the Wizengamot trials. The older Malfoy appeared to be winning back his poise, judging from the sneer he directed at Harry.

"An excellent idea, son," Lucius drawled. "Potter can join us, I suppose."

Harry walked out of the room after Draco, too busy glaring at Lucius to remember his discarded jacket.

The sounds of their footsteps had receded in the distance when Muggy Apparated into the room.

The house-elf scowled at the unkempt state of her young master's room, and bent down to pick up Harry's woolen jacket. The silver ornament on the lapel caught her attention when she noticed the bright flashing light pulsing out of the red gemstone.

"Master Draco must've gotten this from Wheezy's brothers," the elf muttered.


	14. Fourteen

"I wanted to see you because I need help with the potion Slughorn wants us to brew," Pansy said. She lifted her hand with a graceful motion, her nostrils flaring at the sweet scent of the liquid wafting up from her cup of tea. Noting her friend's scowl, she smirked at him over the porcelain brim. "I've got everything ready, Draco; it just needs four drops of blood from your namesake."

"There's a shortage of dragon's blood," muttered Theo, hugging the cup of tea close to his chest as if to shield him from Harry's glare. "Even my contacts are stumped."

Draco nodded at that, remembering his troubles in getting that particular ingredient. Then his brow creased in a frown while he gazed intently at Theo. The scuttlebutt in the Slytherin Common Room was that the Notts still kept their ties with the shadier elements of the Wizarding world, notwithstanding the fact that Theo's father had been amongst the former Death Eaters sent to Azkaban.

Meanwhile, Lucius smiled genially at the tableau presented by his son, flanked by his Slytherin friends, and Harry Potter scowling at him from the opposite end of the dining table.

"There is a whole bottle of dragon's blood in the dungeon we set up as your potions lab, son," Lucius drawled. "I'll just have Muggy set everything up so you and your friends, including Potter, can brew in peace."

Harry groaned, his fingers drumming impatiently against the table. He just couldn't find it in him to mix freely with Draco's Slytherin friends. He wasn't able to forget Pansy's willingness to hand him over to Voldemort during the Final Battle, or the rumors bandied around about Nott's shady relations. He shook his head slowly, wondering how Draco had managed to build such a close relationship with Luna, Ron, and the Weasleys.

His mood darkening, Harry sighed heavily as he wondered if he and Draco could pull off the neat trick of constructing a strong relationship among the entanglements caused by their feuding Houses.

Draco narrowed his eyes at his father, well acquainted with Lucius' interference in the matter of choosing his friends. The signs of Harry's distress were obvious, and Draco dared not follow Lucius' apparently friendly overture at the risk of alienating Harry. He nursed his tea, wondering how he could let down his friends gently and go out with his boyfriend in a subtle fashion.

He glanced up at the sound of swishing robes, his eyes widening at the sight of his mother.

"There you are, Lucius," Narcissa said, inclining her head regally. "I'm afraid your peacocks are causing trouble again."

"Narcissa, I was in the midst of helping Draco!" Lucius groaned and tilted down his chin, his hair cascading around his shoulders and hiding his face. Then his fingers rubbed the handle of his cane as he glanced at Draco with a crafty gleam in his eyes.

"It doesn't matter. Draco can help his friends win points for Slytherin!"

Narcissa shook her head at that. She walked towards Draco and patted his shoulder. "I'm afraid I have an errand for Draco. That letter you wanted me to write to my sister to mend the fences?"

"We have plenty of owls," Lucius said, his fingers gripping tightly his cane.

"It needs a personal touch; besides, it's been years since Andromeda laid eyes on her nephew." Narcissa's fingers smoothed Draco's hair.

He tilted up his chin to shoot Narcissa a grateful smile. "I'll be on my way then, Mother." He looked at Harry and cocked his head at the door. "Want to come with me, Harry?"

"Reckon I will," Harry said, standing up so fast his chair wobbled on its rear legs.

oOoOo

Draco opened hastily the front door, and then he glanced at Harry, who was shivering in the gust of wind coming from the lawn.

"Sorry, Harry," he drawled. "In my haste to get out, I forgot to fetch your jacket."

"It's a bit windy." Harry leaned closer to Draco's shoulder as the Slytherin turned his head towards the entrance to call out, "Muggy!"

"Master Draco called?" said the house-elf, stepping towards them.

"Fetch Harry's jacket from my room, will you?"

"Certainly, young master," Muggy said before apparating away. She was back a second later and handed it over to Harry.

"Thanks, Muggy," said Harry with a smile as he put on his brown jacket.

The house-elf nodded curtly before disappearing with a loud pop.

Draco nudged Harry's collar, his fingers brushing the red garnet set on the silver brooch. Then he took a step back, licking his lips at the sight of the handsome Gryffindor, his hair strewn every which way in the wind.

"Let's go, Potter."

Harry lifted his eyebrows. "Aren't you going to wait for your mother's letter?"

"Just between us, Mother gave me that letter long ago," he said, and hooked his arm with Harry's to lead him towards the gate of the Manor. "Actually, it was when I was helping the Weasleys, which came in handy. My aunt got to see me in a new light, so to speak."

"Reckon I see."

"Never mess with a Slytherin, especially her," Draco said as the two were leaving the garden path framed by hedges. Pointing at the gate, he nudged Harry. "Where to?"

"Grimmauld Place," said Harry with a leer. "That is, if you're willing to continue where Lucius interrupted us."

"Certainly, Potter. Lead the way."

oOoOo

Harry sat astride Draco's lap, his thighs framing the Slytherin's slim hips while his hands cradled Draco's face, his tongue busy mapping his mouth. In the cold parlor, the only source of warmth came from the fireplace and the warm body beneath him.

His mouth soaked up Draco's groans while Harry lowered his hand to palm his crotch. He was so intent in devouring Draco he didn't notice his friend Apparating into the parlor.

"Merlin!" said Ron loudly.

Harry was so startled he would have fallen to the floor but for Draco's steadying hand.

"I'm sorry, mate, so sorry!" Ron said, his cheeks blushing a bright scarlet. "Those bloody gits want you to lend them your map, though."

"Who?" said Harry, lowering his feet and then standing up on shaky legs while Draco groaned in disappointment.

"Fred and George, Harry." Ron walked up to the old desk on the corner, calling over his shoulder. "The gits wanted to come but I offered instead. Reckoned you might be busy." He opened the drawer and rummaged inside. "I'll be just a second and then I'll be on my way."

"Thanks," muttered Harry.

"I know what it is to be interrupted," said Ron. "Those gits do it to me all the time."

Harry blushed and averted his gaze when Ron turned back, clutching the Marauder Map on his right hand.

"What do they want it for?" said Draco, tugging the hem of his shirt inside the waistband of his trousers.

"The gits want to finish their stupid potion." Ron's fingers brushed the crisp parchment of the Map. "They're planning on raiding Slughorn's cupboard, so they said they needed the Map, given all the changes made when Hogwarts was rebuilt."

"Slughorn's turning out worse than Snape," Harry said. "At least he didn't hoard ingredients."

"Well." Ron blushed again when he looked at the flushed faces of Harry and Draco. "I'll be on my way, then. Have fun!"

Ron Apparated out of the parlor of Grimmauld Place.


	15. Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Rating: NC-17**

Harry swished his wand at the bedroom door, his eyes narrowed in concentration while he muttered words too low for Draco to hear.

"What are you doing?"

"Casting wards." Harry finished with a flourish, and then he stuck the wand in the pocket of his trousers. He turned towards Draco with a fluid motion, the corners of his lips curling up in a knowing leer. "Don't want anyone else barging in and interrupting us."

"Good thinking, Potter." Draco's voice was tinged with doubt, which made Harry sigh.

"What's the matter, Malfoy, changed your mind or something?" Harry stalked towards Draco; his thighs nudging Draco's legs so that he stumbled backwards until the back of his knees met the soft mattress.

"No, it's just…"

Harry's fingers pressed on Draco's soft lips. "I know it's a lot to take, being on different Houses and fighting for opposite sides of the war, but you know what?" He took a deep breath, his green eyes seemingly baring his soul as he went on in a whisper, "It doesn't matter. The past is gone, Voldemort's forgotten except in crazed people's minds."

"I know."

"Do you really?" Harry's thumb trailed a path down Draco's soft cheek. "What matters is this thing between us. I've wanted you for so long, Draco. Wanted to be there in your room when I followed you on the Map; you looked so lonely."

"You wanted to know my plans, too," Draco huffed.

"Sure. There's always been this aspect of the magic that binds us, you see?" Harry rubbed his forehead against him, his fringe tickling Draco's brow. "You've always made my blood boil."

"The feeling's mutual." Draco's thumbs framed Harry's face, his nose rubbing the cold glasses as his lips sought the mouth he'd yearned to kiss for so long.

Soft lips slid together for a moment that was too brief for Draco. "My enemy, my lover."

Pale hands cradled Harry's hips before yanking him forward, his clothed erection rubbing Harry's broad thigh. Draco grabbed his elbow and manhandled him, turning him around and pushing down gently so that Harry sat down on the bed.

Harry toed off his shoes, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt until he finally shrugged it off broad shoulders. Meanwhile, Draco's fingers deftly unbuckled Harry's belt and pulled down his zipper. He hooked his thumbs around the elastic waistband of Harry's boxers, and wiggled his eyebrows at him until Harry raised his hips, the rough wool sliding against his skin as Draco lowered his trousers. Harry lay down on the mattress and pulled up his legs, blushing at his wanton position while Draco took off his trousers and let them fall to the floor, the metallic buckle clinking against the wood.

The sight of Harry's thick girth twitching against his abs and the cock head glistening in the lamplight made Draco's mouth water. He bent down to lick the crown and taste Harry, and then he opened his lips wide and swallowed him.

Harry's fists gripped the sheets as he moaned at the delicious feeling of the wet heat enveloping him. "Don't stop," he said hoarsely, craning his neck to lift his head and gaze down at Draco.

He groaned at the sight of those pouty lips wrapped around his cock, causing Draco to raise his gaze towards him with grey eyes framed by blond locks that tickled his waist, fingers rubbing softly his balls as his throat pulsed around Harry. The overwhelming sensations proved his undoing and Harry came with a grunt, jerking up his hips into Draco's face.

Harry was in a daze, breathing harshly as he recovered after his orgasm. He was hardly aware of Draco brushing aside his sweaty hair until he felt Draco's mouth on him, nudging open his lips with his tongue. Harry answered lazily, moaning at the taste of himself upon Draco's tongue, his body writhing against the wool of Draco's robes over him.

Breaking the kiss, Harry's thumb rubbed circles around Draco's neck. "What about you? Want me to return the favor?"

"No, I'm going to open you up with my fingers until you are begging for my cock, and then I'm going to shag you so hard you will forget you're Harry Potter." Draco stood up, his hand searching for his wand. With a stabbing motion, he removed his clothes, the black robes and trousers swirling above Harry like startled crows.

A muttered _Lubricio_ sufficed to cover Draco's fingers with slick gel; his hand lifting Harry's leg as he leaned down to kiss a spot on his inner thigh while the fingers of his other hand rubbed Harry's rim.

"Your hole looks so tight," Draco said, the tip of his index finger breaching Harry for a moment. Harry shivered at the slight burning which grew when Draco added another finger. "Wonder if I will fit inside."

Harry twisted his neck to gaze between his legs and he licked his lips at the sight of Draco's erection; the thick girth jutting from coarse blond hair while Harry's hips jerked reflexively, impaling himself onto Draco's fingers.

"Come on, Malfoy." Harry grunted, his dick twitching back to life when Draco hooked his fingers and rubbed a bundle of nerves inside him. "Don't tease me."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Harry," Draco drawled, his fingers leaving Harry.

Harry winced at the aching, empty feeling inside. His muscles clenched around nothing while Draco eased up a bit and grabbed his thighs to pull up his legs. Harry's ankles firmly draped over his shoulders, Draco pressed forward, his thumb and forefinger wrapped around the base of his cock while the fingers of his other hand splayed open Harry's cheeks.

His gaze fixed on Harry, Draco pushed forward and groaned as the rim stretched around his crown, until finally the cock head slipped inside the tight sheath. He paused for a second, observing Harry's features for any sign of pain.

Harry winced at the stretch, though it wasn't as bad as he had expected. It had to do with how relaxed he felt after he came down Draco's throat, he decided. The feeling of Draco filling him up was glorious, though, and he hooked his ankles around Draco's shoulder, raising his hand to caress the toned chest as Draco pushed inside him.

Inch by inch. Slowly, unrelentingly.

Harry arched his back, trying to get more of Draco. He felt the mattress wobbling with Draco's weight when he raised his knees onto the bed, crouching above Harry. The movement canted up Harry's hips, allowing deeper penetration.

Harry's dick throbbed when Draco sunk in to the root, the shaft grazing his prostate. Draco twisted his hips when he was completely sheathed, and Harry could swear he felt every ridge of his cock, the veins throbbing against his walls.

His feet flat upon the sheets, Draco withdrew his dick and grunted when Harry wrapped his legs around his waist, fighting the removal. Harry's heels pushed against his buttocks to egg Draco on.

He withdrew tantalizingly slow, his eyes inexorably drawn to the place they were joined and noting Harry's rim catching on the crown of his dick on the outward thrusts. "You're hungry for cock, aren't you?"

Harry groaned as Draco thrust his hips, filling him again before another withdrawal. The weight of Draco over him, the thick dick stretching and filling him so nicely, the way the cock jabbed his prostate on the inward push – it made Harry's dick drool over his abs.

Draco wrapped his fist around the slick shaft and whispered hoarsely, "Come for me, Harry!"

"Harder, harder!" Harry jerked his hips back and forth, trying to get more of the delicious sensation of Draco rubbing inside him in all the right places while his thumb swirled around his wet cock head.

At a particular hard jab that made him see stars, Harry lost it. He came with a shout, spilling into Draco's fingers and over his abs. Draco fucked him through his orgasm, moaning when Harry clenched hard around him. The tight heat fluttering around Draco was too much, and he followed Harry with a hoarse grunt, spilling inside him.

Harry was out of it for a while. He was dimly aware of Draco softening inside and the swirl of magic brushing his body as Draco cleaned them both. He grunted contentedly when Draco draped a sheet over them, his arm sneaking down between his ribs and the mattress to trap Harry in a loose embrace as he cuddled him.

Harry yawned and, squirming at the soreness of his ass, he sought a better position before sleep overtook the sated wizards.

oOoOo

Draco's eyelids fluttered as he slept. Cradled by Harry's warmth, it wasn't surprising his dream held imagery of his happier days in childhood, long before the specter of Voldemort would rise again to haunt them all.

In his dream, Draco was flying high above Wiltshire, the winter dusk coloring the sky a soft purple as he gazed around and finally locked on his home, bright as it was by the Christmas lights set all over the property by industrious elves.

He swooped down towards the Manor, smiling at the bright rows of gaily decorated trees which flanked the lawn, in the midst of which a tall Christmas tree stood, peppered with fairy lights especially brought from France.

He looked towards the Manor, whose gabled roof was the only dark note in a brightly illuminated façade.

Before he could descend, though, Draco suddenly found himself in a dark room. The acrid scent wafting up from a cauldron told him it was a potions lab.

His heart thudding against his chest, Draco moaned when he noticed a flask sitting in the darkness, holding a naked figure inside. Harry must be really uncomfortable with his legs pulled up like that, Draco mused idly before the dream imagery vanished.

Then four glasses appeared in rapid succession, one after the other: a plant shyly rising its leaves above the rim of the glass, followed by a flame licking towards the ceiling which uncomfortably reminded Draco of _Fiendfyre_ , then an ice cube splashing down upon cool water, and finally an empty glass.

Draco knew then the exact nature of the potion he had to brew to save Harry; but as was the wont of dreams, the knowledge lasted but a brief while before it irretrievably escaped his mind.


	16. Sixteen

Draco fidgeted while the stairs took him up to the Headmistress' Office. He didn't want to ask McGonagall a favor, but he was at a loss as to what his dream meant. Upon walking up, he recalled vividly the imagery, as was his wont with his prophetic dreams, though he didn't remember how it all fit together.

He knocked on the door, hating more and more being here. It made him recall the visit he paid to McGonagall when he started Eighth Year, and the curt way the Headmistress laid down the law. Fresh from the ordeal of his Wizengamot trial, the sermon made him despair of ever fitting again into normal Wizarding life. Fortunately, he had met Luna afterwards, and her quirky words and their easy banter lifted his spirits that day.

"Come in."

McGonagall's voice pulled him back from his reverie. He opened the door and stepped inside. The portraits of past Headmasters on the walls of the oval room were sleeping as usual, although one or two snorted at seeing him.

Draco walked up to the desk and sat down on the chair, nodding at the Headmistress.

"Why exactly are you here, Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall said, not unkindly.

"I heard that Snape's portrait was finally delivered," Draco said cautiously.

"That is true." McGonagall cocked her head at a small square curtain between two snoring wizards. "He's under wraps for now because he tends to start a row with the older, more settled portraits."

"May I talk to him?" Draco said, his fingers gripping the armrests. "There's a potion I want to brew, but I can't figure out how."

"Why don't you consult your Head of House, Malfoy?" McGonagall said, her lips pursed in a severe line.

"Professor Slughorn is hard to find," Draco said softly, thanking the fact that Theo had blustered quite openly about the privileges of his membership in Slughorn's inner circle. "He's quite busy preparing the upcoming dinner for his Slug Club."

"It is true that Horace has seemed out of sorts lately." Minerva nodded sagely, the tip of her hat bobbing up and down. Then she stood up, staring sharply at him. "Very well, Malfoy. Pomona has invited me over to discuss some things so you have that time to speak to Severus; I suggest you use it wisely."

The Headmistress left the office in a flurry of robes, and Draco stood up and walked to the window. He gazed out at the winter sky and the snow- covered ramparts of the castle, and then tilted down his chin to glance at the walls below the tower, where several magical cranes were finishing the renovation of that part of the castle.

He approached the curtain that hid Severus' portrait with trepidation, finally brushing it aside.

"What truly brings you here, Draco?" Severus glared down at him, his thumb brushing the wooden potions bench upon which a cauldron simmered. "I heard your conversation with Minerva, and I know you could easily wheedle advice out of Horace."

"It's a potion I have to brew, Severus!" Draco said urgently. "I need it to save Harry Potter."

"I see you haven't gotten rid of your unwholesome obsession with Potter." Severus sneered, his fingers toying with the lace ruffle that adorned his wrist.

"They are going to trap him, Severus, stuff him inside a bottle like a potion specimen!"

Noting Draco's distress, Snape sighed deeply and decided to forgo the cutting remark he was about to utter; instead, he pursed his eyebrows. "How do you know about that?"

"I had one of those prophetic dreams," Draco mumbled, lowering his eyes.

"Indeed." Severus snorted. "Narcissa mentioned how utterly dreadful they were. Do tell me about it," he said disinterestedly, his lips curled in disdain as he gazed at the snoring Headmasters all around him. "It's bound to be more interesting than these boring people."

"Hey!" growled a nearby portrait. "Watch it, fellow!"

Draco didn't give the old wizard the opportunity to start a row with Snape; he plunged into the story, telling all the details of his different dreams and omitting only his relationship with Harry. He didn't have time to waste defending his choice to his godfather, nor did he wish to hear Snape's sarcastic remarks upon hearing the news.

"How can I go about brewing the potion?" Draco said, a bit out of breath.

"I think you don't realize the import of your last dream."

"The four glasses?" Draco frowned. "The last one was empty."

"I'm disappointed in you." Severus shook his head, his brow furrowed in thought. "It clearly indicated air, and when you consider the others were water, fire, and the soil necessary for plants to grow, it can only mean one thing."

"The four elements," Draco whispered, his eyes widening.

"Don't be surprised, Malfoy. It seems obvious that the gist of your dreams indicate you must brew a universal potion, encompassing all elements."

"Universal potion?" Draco said wonderingly.

"You don't know the nature of the trap Potter faces. The dream suggests it is likely someone will shrink Potter down and stuff him in a bottle filled with liquid that supports life." Severus arched his eyebrow. "You'll need to brew something that counteracts the spell that shrunk him down; an elixir of life, so to speak, that will restore Potter to his obnoxious self."

Hearing that, Draco scowled up at the portrait. He had grown very fond of Harry and Snape's belittling words angered him.

"You'll need a renewal potion that will bring Harry back, in keeping with the spirit of the season." Severus glanced out the window at the snowy backgrounds of the mountains around Hogwarts. "You have to brew the Christmas potion."

"What?" said Draco thickly.

"As I told you and those brats all those years ago, I intended to teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory…"

"And stopper death," Draco said with a shudder.

"Your memory amazes me." Severus snorted, looking down his long nose at the flustered Slytherin. "I told you before about the potion Nicholas Flamel was working on, all those years ago, before his attention was distracted in creating useless baubles."

"The Philosopher's Stone," muttered Draco under his breath.

"Indeed." Severus arched his eyebrow at him. "Can you do it, Draco? Are you smart enough to brew the potion that will uncork life in order to save your Potter?"

oOoOo

Draco walked down the stairs, his hands stuck in his pockets as he reflected about Snape's words. Though he was very good at brewing potions, enough to consider apprenticing to become a Potions Master, he shuddered at the thought of having Harry's life in his hands. What if he made a mistake and the potion was flawed? What if he didn't brew the potion on time?

"Oi, Draco!"

Hearing Harry's voice startled Draco so much, his hand shot out to grab the rail to steady himself. Glancing down, he saw Harry's unruly mop of hair as his boyfriend trotted up the stairs, Luna by his side.

Harry stopped just a step below him, shooting him a glare while he poked his chest. "When I woke up in the morning, you were gone! Only left a bloody note which didn't say much so I went to your home."

"And Mother told you I came here," Draco said resignedly.

"Yes! Luckily Narcissa has a clear head! Met Luna near Hagrid's and she mentioned she saw you going upstairs." Harry glowered at his boyfriend, his fingers tapping against Draco's robes.

"I didn't see you, Lovegood," Draco drawled.

"I was visiting Hagrid," Luna said. "There's an infestation of Nargles he has to look out for."

"Whatever." Draco shrugged and continued his way downstairs, Harry and Luna flanking him. He glanced sideways at Harry. "I had another unsettling dream and came here to consult Severus' portrait. Didn't want to wake you up, so I left the note."

"Next time, talk to me, please," Harry said, patting Draco's shoulders. He couldn't find it in him to remain angry at Draco, noting the worry stamped on his handsome features.

"So what was the dream this time?" Luna said, skipping down the stairs.

"It was about four glasses."

Draco told them the dream and Severus' interpretation as they made their way down the stairs, through the Great Hall and out the front doors.

"So Snape thinks this Christmas potion will save me?" Harry said slowly, nudging up the collar of his coat as the winter wind ruffled his hair.

"Yes, but I don't know where to start." Draco lowered his chin to stare at the snow.

"There's another interpretation for the four glasses, you know," Luna said dreamily.

"Which one would that be?" Draco gazed at her.

Luna turned her head and cocked her chin at the castle they were leaving behind. "Hogwarts. Your dream means you need something from each House in order to complete the potion. The fire stands for Gryffindor, of course."

"And the water splashing out of the third glass?" Harry said, lifting his eyebrows.

"Ravenclaw," Luna said simply. "The knowledge we strive to acquire surrounds everything, just like water."

"I take it the soil represents Hufflepuff." Draco said, hooking his right arm around Harry; a second later, he did the same with Luna on his other side.

"Hufflepuff loyalty and constancy are like the bountiful earth upon which the good seed can grow," Luna said, leaning her shoulder towards Draco to shield her from the biting wind.

"And the empty glass is Slytherin?" Draco said. "So we are as nothing."

"Not at all, Draco," Luna said in a soothing manner. "Your House is volatile like the air we breathe; cunning can serve useful means or be the spark that starts a conflagration."


	17. Seventeen

 

 

Draco walked along the avenue, ducking his head to watch the multicolored reflections of Christmas lights on the cobbled street. He sighed and then lifted his chin to gaze at the lights strewn along the bare limbs of the trees lining the street.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" Hermione said, following Draco's gaze. She snuck her hand in the crook of Harry's arm, her breath puffing out in the chilly winter night. "I've come here nearly every Christmas season since I was a child." She pointed at a bench on the curbside. "I find peace here when life's too overwhelming."

The three made their way to the bench, where Harry pulled out his wand and cast a spell to clean it of snow.

"So what do you think, Hermione?" Harry sat down, his joints creaking in the cold.

"I'm trying to wrap my head around it." She swiped her fingers, covered with mittens, on the cold bench before taking her place next to Harry, and then raised her head to stare at Draco, who was pacing to and fro in front of the bench. "Snape mentioned the Christmas potion, you said?"

"Severus told me Flamel worked on it before deciding to concentrate on the Philosopher's Stone." Draco fished out his wand from his pocket and deftly swished it at the bench. "Warming spell," he said, answering Hermione's raised eyebrow.

"I wonder if it is the same one that…" She trailed off, her brow puzzled in concentration as the two wizards exchanged a worried look.

"The same what?" Harry prodded his best friend while his knuckles nervously brushed against the dragon brooch clasping his cloak.

"There's a potion I've seen mentioned in the footnotes of _Hogwarts: A history_ ; from what I gathered it's like the holy grail of magical brewing," Hermione said. "The _Nativitatis_ potion."

Draco gasped at that, gazing down at the messy trail on the sidewalk caused by his incessant pacing. "I read about it. Mostly rants from old Potions Masters who couldn't brew it."

Hermione scowled at him and cocked her chin towards the space on the other side of Harry. "For Merlin's sake, sit down, Draco! You're making me dizzy with all your pacing."

"Sorry to disturb you!" Glaring at Hermione, Draco plopped down next to Harry. He cupped his hands around his face, peering at the empty street over his fingers. "I should be brewing that potion right now."

"You need more information to do that," Harry said reasonably. "All you have is your dreams, and it's hard to make sense of them." His fingers brushing Draco's leg, he went on, "Reckon if you could find the recipe to brew it…"

"That's the problem," Hermione said slowly. "I seem to recall there was no recipe for some odd reason." She clenched her fingers on the edge of the cold iron bench and muttered, "I have to go home to look up my notes and research _Hogwarts: A history_."

Harry rolled his eyes at that. "I thought you had memorized that book."

She stood up, turning towards Harry to chastise him, but her gaze was drawn to the silver dragons on his cloak. She pointed at them and said wonderingly, "What's that?"

"Err, Draco's Christmas gift."

"Where did you get it?" She arched her eyebrow at Draco.

"Family vault at Gringotts." Draco shrugged.

"Mind if I check it for Dark spells?"

Harry scowled at her and opened his mouth to protest, but Draco's soothing touch on his shoulder stopped him. "Hermione's right," he said with a sigh. "I forgot to do that, and Merlin knows what my ancestors may have done with it."

He leaned down and gently unclasped the jewel from Harry's cloak to hand it to Hermione.

She nodded at Draco and started walking towards her parents' home, sighing as she took out her wand.

While Draco and Harry caught up with her, Hermione flicked her wrist and cast a revealing spell on the jewel.

She studied the results for a few seconds and nodded in satisfaction; then she gave the jewel to Harry. "The heirloom is free from Dark spells, though it has the standard Gringotts tracking spell."

"Tracking spell?" Draco said, his fingers brushing Harry's arm.

Hermione shrugged. "Bill told me all about it the last time I visited the Burrow." She turned towards Harry and shot him a brief smile. "After our little escapade, the goblins decided to keep a magical inventory of the contents of the vaults, using this spell. It's quite innocuous really."

"Bloody greedy goblins," muttered Harry low under his breath. "Did you know they wanted reparations for our break in?" He smiled slyly at Draco. "They relented, though, when I hinted I might leak Griphook's treachery to the Daily Prophet."

"That's my cunning Potter!" Draco beamed proudly at Harry, leaning down to kiss his cold cheek.

The Hogwarts students walked silently the rest of the way to Hermione's house.

"I'll see you later." She patted Harry's shoulder and nodded at Draco, her hand rummaging inside her bag for the house keys. She stepped towards the door and inserted the key, but before she could open the door, two lanky figures clad in stripped trousers and wearing heavy cloaks stepped towards them.

"Hermione, glad to find you home!" said Fred.

"Can you help us?" said George, striding towards the house. The eyebrows of both twins were singed, and their movements were slow, as if their limbs were being pulled by strings.

"By Merlin's beard, what happened to you?" Harry said, nudging up the rim of his glasses with his thumb.

Hermione stared sharply at Fred and George. "One of your pranks, I suppose."

"You suppose wrong, old girl!" said Fred, feigning outrage.

"It wasn't us." George grimaced. "It was bloody Slughorn's wards!"

Noting Hermione's puzzled expression, Fred pointed at his twin. "We went to Hogwarts because we need an ingredient for our upcoming product, a magical trick for Valentine's Day."

"Dragon's blood, which Slughorn has loads of!" growled George.

"That hoarder!" Fred nodded. "We tried to raid his cupboard, tricked his wards and all."

"Old boy was passed out on his couch." George leered.

"Probably drinking the night away." Fred's fingers brushed his nonexistent brows. "We snuck in, but then another set of wards kicked in."

"We can't undo the spell. Slughorn is smarter than we thought."

Harry patted Fred's shoulder in commiseration while Hermione scowled at the twins.

"I should let you suffer the consequences," she huffed. "What you did was wrong."

"But you'll help us, right?" said Fred, giving her his best puppy-eyed look.

"Sneaking into Hogwarts!" Hermione scoffed, her eyes softening when she remembered the frightful moment during the Final Battle when she thought Fred was done for good. "Will you be pulling pranks when you are seventy years old?"

"We should certainly hope so," George said indignantly.

Harry snickered and George turned to him to shoot him a smile, his gaze sliding down to the jewel on his cloak. He leaned down to stare at it, mumbling, "Well, what have we got here?"

"What is it, Forge?" said Fred.

George unclasped the silver dragons from Harry's cloak and hefted the brooch, his fingers caressing the red garnet while he smirked at his twin. "Do you see what I see, Gred old boy?"

Fred's eyes widened. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Indeed."

"What in Merlin's name are you two gits thinking?" said Draco, shooting the twins a menacing glare.

"Calm down, Draco," said Fred. "We were thinking about liquefying the jewel and substituting it for the dragon's blood we lack. We might nudge the results a bit using Arithmancy."

"You two are barmy!" Draco growled, stepping towards George to grab the heirloom and clench his fist around it. "This is my gift for Harry, and you won't take it from him!"

The twins glanced at each other and made gagging sounds.

"I'll find you a substitute through Arithmancy," Draco said through clenched teeth, his hand reaching out to touch his boyfriend's shoulder. "As soon as I'm assured of Harry's safety."


	18. Eighteen

 

 

Harry Apparated in the lawn of the Manor, grimacing as he splayed his hand on his stomach which still recoiled from the dizzying sensation akin to a hook pulling on his navel.

He squared his shoulders and trudged through the snow, shaking his head at the way Draco had holed up in his home for two days. He had sent him an owl and received a curt reply: 'I'm busy, see you soon.'

This reaction from his boyfriend unnerved him. Was he working on the potion?

Harry narrowed his eyes at the snakes writhing together which formed the door knocker, and then his fist closed around it as he swung it and pounded on the wooden frame.

With a creaking sound, the door opened slowly. Muggy looked up at him, her huge eyes widening even more in astonishment as her fingers tugged nervously on the hem of her dress.

"Master Harry! What brings you here?" the house-elf said in a squeaky voice.

"I'm looking for Draco; I'm quite worried about him."

"Muggy, I'll take over from here," Narcissa said, her coolly inflected words presaging her arrival. She cocked her eyebrow at Harry and motioned for him to come inside.

"Thank you, Narcissa." Harry gave her a shallow bow while she nodded her greeting.

Narcissa led the way into the parlor, the heels of her shoes clicking against the marble floor.

"Draco worries me," Harry said, sticking his hands in his pockets. "We were supposed to go to Luna's today, but he brushed me off in his reply."

"I understand, Harry." She lifted her arm and pointed at the long gleaming table in the dining room. "Draco hasn't even deigned to look for his favorite dishes among the Christmas dinner the house-elves put on the table." She glanced at Harry. "Since we're giving them a holiday vacation, they fixed it today. We'll use preservation spells."

Harry's mouth watered at the sight in front of him. The delicious aroma wafting down through the air tickled Harry's nose. The roast turkey was the centerpiece, with a jug of cranberry sauce by its side; it was flanked by Christmas sweets galore and two cakes that looked so delicious, it was all Harry could do not to go to the table and have a piece.

He reined in his hunger, though, his lips pursing in a thin line as he thought about his boyfriend. Draco first, cake later, Harry decided.

Furthermore, he was alarmed that the prospect of eating all those sweets didn't entice Draco, given his notorious sweet tooth.

"Where is he?" Harry said urgently. "Can I visit him?"

"Draco is in his potions lab." Narcissa pointed at a staircase at the end of the hall. It was cozily lit by two candelabra and had small candles on each step. Harry puzzled his brow at the huge wreath that hung over the banister, peppered with tiny fairy lights.

Following Harry's gaze, Narcissa said, "That wreath has an interesting story. Draco brought it just after he finished helping in the renovation of Miss Lovegood's home."

"Is that so?" Harry called over his shoulder as he made his way to the stairs.

"Draco told me one of your friends grew it especially for Christmas."

Harry took the stairs at a trot, his fingers sliding over the soft leaves of the plant which looked like one of Neville's special projects. His friend had spent a busy summer at Hogwarts, aiding Professor Sprout in restoring the greenhouses.

oOoOo

Harry found Draco bent over an old book which lay open on the potions bench, his hand ruffling the pages back and forth while he groaned.

"Draco," he said softly, but his boyfriend didn't hear him. Draco continued ruffling through the book, the rustling sound of the parchment accompanied by his occasional cursing.

"Malfoy!" he said in a loud voice, walking up to Draco and brushing his cheek with his fingers.

Draco's spine tingled with the soft caress while a shiver shot through his body. He twisted his neck to glance at Harry, his lips curling up in a fleeting smirk. "Sorry, Harry, I was distracted."

He cocked his chin at the book. "Found this tome in the Manor Library; it was one of the few the Aurors left behind. Has many potions from the Middle Ages, but…"

"Not the one you seek, this _Nativitatis_ potion." Harry's fingers brushed Draco's silky hair before he broke the contact, reclining on the bench.

"Actually, it talks about it; the problem is that the descriptions are too vague." Draco let out a sigh while he pointed at the empty cauldron in the center of the bench. "Nothing to work with."

"Is that so?" Harry stepped around him until he was at his back, cradling his head on Draco's shoulder to peer down at the book, his eyes narrowing while he read out loud: " _Nativitatis_ is like quicksilver, fiery like the dragon's blood which is essential to its creation. The process of brewing it cannot be pinned down, for it must be approached in the same spirit the poet uses in crafting a stanza of his masterpiece."

"You see my problem?" Draco said.

"What do they mean?" Harry reluctantly took a step back when Draco made to go to the dusty shelf on the corner.

Draco walked up to it and picked up an old book.

"Hermione sent me this, but it is even vaguer than that," he said, waving it at the bench. "It says the successful brewing of _Nativitatis_ results in a cloud of magenta vapor, but the only clear ingredient they mention is dragon's blood. I hate to admit it, but this is like no other potion I've ever brewed; from what I've gleaned, the components change with the mood and purpose of the brewer!"

"What are you going to do, then?" Harry said slowly; his eyebrows knit together as he remembered the words on Dumbledore's chocolate card. "Why don't we go to Hogwarts and look up in the library? Dumbledore found out the twelve uses of dragon's blood. It might be one of those!"

"I thought about it, Harry, and mentioned it to Hermione in my last letter." Draco's shoulder drooped while he put the book back on the shelf. "But even her knowledge failed us. She supposes one of the uses is as an oven cleaner, but that isn't very helpful."

"Experiment a bit, then," Harry said forcefully. "Use that bottle of dragon's blood Lucius was prattling about."

"I can't," Draco growled before closing his fist and hitting the table in anger. "Father gave it to Theo and he took it away! I've sent him owls, but his mother wrote he's overseas."

"Bloody hell," Harry groaned. "And the twins said they couldn't find dragon's blood."

"Slughorn took it all." Draco took a deep breath, glancing at the neatly ordered ingredients he had laid on the table, which were useless at the moment. "What if he's brewing this potion, Harry?"

"What for?" Harry shook his head, thinking about Slughorn's penchant for surrounding himself with up-and-coming students whose reflected fame he basked in. "Do you think he wants the glory?"

"It would be the crowning achievement of a Potions Master," Draco conceded, lowering his chin to stare at the cobbled floor, his mane hiding his features from Harry. "But you have to remember Slughorn is a Slytherin. There might be more to it than that."

"You really think so?" Harry shivered, recalling the Pensieve memory he struggled so much to get, which held Tom Riddle's odd conversation with his teacher.

"Luna said our cunning can spark a conflagration, remember?" Draco tilted up his chin to look at Harry, his grey eyes shining in the light of the flickering sconces. "This potion is so powerful, so hard to brew that it leads me to wonder: what if the Head of Slytherin wants it for something awful, like bringing back the Dark Lord?"


	19. Nineteen

 

 

"I'm glad I was able to coax you to have breakfast." Pansy lifted her fork, glancing at the glossy magazine perched on her lap.

"It was Mother's idea," he said, his fingers toying with the knife. He really didn't have time for this, busy as he was trying to brew the potion, but his mother had insisted.

Pansy sighed, and the gesture seemed so out of place in her that Draco felt compelled to ask, "What's the matter, Pansy?"

Without a word, she hefted the Muggle magazine and splayed it on the table between them, nudging aside the tray with jugs of milk.

She pointed at the picture which depicted a cracker bearing gifts of utmost luxury, fit for a Romanov Czar: an open Fabergé egg whose red shell was studded with diamonds and inlaid with threaded gold, square rubies which dwarfed their diamond frames, luxury Muggle pens, and sundry Muggle objects whose purpose Draco was unable to divine.

He lifted his chin, staring sharply at Pansy. "I take it you miss the good times."

"I certainly do." Pansy sighed and rolled up the magazine, waving it at Draco. "Not everyone was treated as favorably as your family."

Draco averted his gaze, aware that many Slytherins who returned to school with him, Pansy and Theo among them, had lost family members to Azkaban or the war.

"Is that why you go out with Theo?" he whispered, turning his face towards Pansy. "Trying to hook up with the new leader of Slytherin?"

"Theo likes to posture and prance, but he doesn't command your presence," Pansy said, her hand hovering over Draco's wrist until finally she patted it softly.

"Thanks, but I doubt that." Draco snorted self-deprecatingly.

Pansy shook her head at that; how could Draco be so blind to his own charisma and the power the Malfoy name still evoked? If only he wasn't so sunk into his eternal infatuation with Potter and all things Gryffindor!

Draco pushed away his plate with his half-eaten eggs and sausages and stood up. "Now if you will excuse me, Pansy, I have important things to do."

"So do I, I need to get ready. Theo and I are going to Slughorn's Christmas dinner at Hogwarts," Pansy said slowly, her gaze falling on the magazine. "I sure could use one of those jewels."

"I don't know how you can stand that man," Draco said as he walked to the door.

"Because I must; Slughorn's influence can help me after I leave Hogwarts," she muttered. "A Slytherin does what she must to survive, as you well know."

"I'm aware of that, Pansy," Draco said tiredly, his hand touching the doorframe. "Goodbye."

"A word of warning, if you please," Pansy said. "Don't trust Theo, he's jealous of you."

"Good. But can I trust you, Pansy?" Draco whispered sadly before he left the Manor dining room.

oOoOo

Draco glanced at the empty bottle which had held powered moonstone; it lay askance on a table next to a marble chess set, a lonely ampoule of hellebore syrup propped against the king.

He wiped his sooty face with his forearm, unmindful of the dark stains left upon his rolled-up shirt sleeve. Leaning over the potions bench, he frowned at the sloppy mess inside the cauldron. He had tried to follow Severus' advice and brewed potions with ingredients which ancient Potions Masters considered the essence of the four elements like fire salamander eggs, knotgrass, gillyweed, and Erumpent fluid.

But none of the potions presented the magenta vapor the books reported.

He sighed and cleared a space on the bench with the flat of his hands, ready to try once again. Draco scrunched up his brow, weighing the option of trying Luna's way and aim for a potion brewed with ingredients standing for the Hogwarts Houses.

His lips curled in a tight smile as he considered that, after all, he had lived the most intense moments of his life at Hogwarts, staring at Harry with a heady mix of anger and desire.

If he could only distill the essence of what he had felt at those times into a potion, he was sure the brew would match the Elixir of Life.

A soft knock distracted him, followed a moment later by the creaking sound of the door as it opened.

"Oi, Ferret!" Ron said, sauntering into the room.

"Weasel, what brings you here?"

Ron hooked his foot around the leg of a stool and pulled it towards him, sitting down with a sigh.

"Seeing how old Slughorn hoarded the good stuff," Ron said while he fished inside the pocket of his robes. "I wrote to Charlie and asked him to send this." He hefted a bottle filled with red liquid which he handed to Draco.

"Dragon's blood?" Draco said wonderingly, his thumb rubbing against the cork stopper.

"From an old Norwegian Ridgeback, Charlie said."

Draco shot him a brief smile, leaning towards Ron to pat his shoulder awkwardly. "That's a great move, thanks."

"Harry needs the stuff, right?" Ron shrugged, his cheeks blushing hot at the unusual compliment from the Slytherin.

"He does; nevertheless, it is a thoughtful gesture…"

Seeking to distract Malfoy from heaping praise on him, Ron cocked his chin at the chess set. "Fancy a game?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "What for? I'm going to lose, and I need to use the blood to brew the correct potion at last."

"Come on, mate," Ron pointed at Draco's dirty shirt. "You need a break. Clear your head. Merlin knows whenever I cram for an exam I do better after a break."

Draco stepped towards the bench and carefully laid the bottle down in the middle of it.

"Sure." He shrugged and walked towards the table to sit on the stool opposite Ron.

After the opening moves, Ron raised his eyebrow at Draco. "I take it you're having trouble with the potion for Harry."

"It's very hard," Draco conceded.

"So talk to me about it." Ron ordered his horse to move ahead, and glanced at Draco. "I know brewing those bloody potions is very hard, believe me!"

"Brewing takes concentration," Draco admitted with a shrug. "It's very mechanical at times: laying out the ingredients, taking care they're correctly peeled or squeezed, and applied at the right time."

Ron nodded along, not interrupting Draco at all. Merlin knew Malfoy needed to get things off his chest, he thought, gazing at Draco's tired face.

"There are moments filled with inspiration, though," Draco said. "When you just feel you have to nudge the recipe a bit: stir counterclockwise instead of the other way, or crush the seeds a certain way to get more juice."

"Beats me," Ron said. "It's all hogwash to me."

"Sometimes you just know in your bones the correct way to brew." Draco said, squaring his shoulders when he remembered Severus' scant words of approval when Draco brewed a potion in an efficient manner.

"Good."

"But there are some ingredients I lack," Draco said with a sigh. "I'd have to order them abroad, and I feel I'm running out of time."

"Can't you replace them or something?"

Draco shook his head. "I wouldn't get the same magical effect."

"I see." Ron took out his wand and swished it at the table, transfiguring the chess pieces into pebbles of different colors.

Draco furrowed his brow at that while Ron offered by way of explanation, "Hermione's on my tail constantly about getting better in transfiguration, so I've been practicing."

"Whatever." Draco nudged the sandy pebble that represented his queen to D5.

Ron started talking about the twins' latest adventure while the two wizards continued the game. Finally, the redhead put the red pebble which stood for a knight upon the square G6 and glanced at Draco. "Checkmate."

Draco scowled at him, and then lowered his chin to study the board. Seeing no escape, he shrugged nonchalantly. "You win again. How surprising."

Ron shot him a grin before he stood up and brushed his trousers with the back of his hand. "Yes. I won, though the pieces were not the usual kind."

"Your point, Ron?"

Ron took out his wand and flicked it at the board, restoring the pieces that instantly shot him murderous looks. He picked up a bishop that writhed on his fist, muttering curses against the wizard that dared transform it into a rock.

"Doesn't matter what form the pieces take," Ron said, putting the unruly bishop back on the table. "What's important is that they fit in the game, that they take the role you assign them in the pattern."

Draco nodded, his eyes widening as he grasped the import of Ron's words.

"I have to leave," Ron said. "I'm going with Hermione to that bloody party of Slughorn."

"Harry's going with you?"

"Well, he's restless." Ron shrugged. "With you cooped up here preparing the potion, he needs some distraction."

"Will you watch out for him?"

"With my life," Ron said simply, before turning his back and walking out of the room.


	20. Twenty

 

 

After Ron went out the door, Draco stared at the cauldron for a while, reflecting on his friend's words.

He took out a piece of green ribbon which he used to tie off his hair and then he stood up, intent on finishing the potion that seemed to defy description. The sight of the lonely cauldron was ominous, though, so he sat down again. He felt discouragement creeping in, disappointment in his failure to master the elusive brew.

So many times had he attempted to brew the potion and failed! It reminded him of Quidditch, of playing against Harry and being forever doomed to never catch the Snitch, no matter how much he tried.

His eyes narrowed when he remembered the _Felix felicis_ vial he'd bought in the black market. He was very tempted to sip it and use it as a stepping stone towards brewing _Nativitatis_. Draco felt sure that imbibing the luck potion would give him the push he needed to attain his goal. And yet, the books implied that the impetus to brew _Nativitatis_ had to come from inside; he couldn't fake it at the risk of ruining the potion.

Harry needed him because his visions didn't lie. There was a prophetic dream Draco hadn't confided in Harry and his friends because it shamed him deeply: during summer vacation after Fifth Year, Draco had dreamed of Harry spying on him, watching from above in the luggage compartment of the Hogwarts Express as Draco pleasured himself.

It was a heady vision that had left Draco writhing on the bed, sweat plastering his hair to his skull while his heart throbbed with yearning.

The vision turned sour when Draco was chatting with Pansy in the Hogwarts Express and glanced up at the luggage rack. He recognized the setting of his dream – and realized Harry was eavesdropping on him with the hopes of unmasking him as a Death Eater and throwing him to the wolves.

Bitter disappointment had coursed through his veins and made him blind with rage, and he used the opportunity to lash out at Harry.

The slick caress of a drop of sweat sliding down his forehead brought him back to the present. Draco tilted down his chin, staring at his clenched fingers around the edge of the bench.

It always came down to Harry; he had always wanted Harry's attention and love. And now that he had it, Draco wasn't about to let it slip through his fingers like the bloody Snitch!

Draco took a deep breath and pushed the cauldron towards him. Keeping the mental image of his annoying boyfriend in his mind – the way his green eyes lit up with passion when he looked at him – Draco squared his shoulder and decided to take the bull by the horns. If the books insisted the potion ought to be brewed as if writing a poem, why, he had all the inspiration he needed in Harry.

Narrowing his eyes, he set to the task at hand, recalling the way Harry had sneaked looks at him during previous school years. Brushing away the jars and vials he had used for his previous attempts, he was determined to start anew and follow the advice of Severus and Luna. The potion should incorporate ingredients from all Hogwarts Houses, standing for the four elements.

He stood up and went to the cupboard, opening the creaky doors to take out the old cauldron he had used in his first Hogwarts years, when he thought his ability would elicit Potter's admiration.

He hefted it and put it on the bench, giving a soft pat to the worn cooper rim as he peered inside. It was empty and yet full of promise; the air within would prove useful as he sought to prove his mastery of the art in which Slytherins excelled.

He seized this sudden inspiration which was fuelled by his recollection of Harry, and determined to use it the same way good memories powered the Patronus spell. Draco shook his head, doubting he would ever be able to cast a Patronus the easy way Harry and Luna did.

As his glance drew along the length of the potions bench, Draco didn't mind, for this was the battlefield where he would prove his mettle.

His recollection of Luna brought an idea to his mind, and he knew what the next ingredient would be. Draco rushed out of the room and ran down the stairs, running through the empty halls until he approached the Christmas tree. He plucked one of the odd fruits Luna had used as Christmas ornaments and made his way back.

Draco trotted up the stairs, his fingers brushing the soft leaves of the wreath Neville had given him. He scrunched up his brow in thought and stopped, his boots scuffing the wooden steps before he leaned down to break off a long twig. The plant which Longbottom had wrought through his patient exertions would do for the element earth and Hufflepuff, Draco decided. He had scoffed at Neville for being a Hufflepuff, never realizing the qualities of hard work and tolerance would inform the shape of the Final Battle in which the Dark Lord was finally defeated.

Draco burst into his potions lab and put the odd, round fruit on a crystal bowl. He picked up the knife and cut it in thin slices which slid down the curved glass. The juicy pulp gleamed in the light of the sconces as Draco leaned towards the bench, his wand gripped tightly between his thumb and forefingers. A mumbled spell sufficed to liquefy the fruit, and he lifted the bowl to upend the content into his old cauldron. Then he stirred clockwise, his eyes widening at the blue sparks flickering within the liquid.

 _Slytherin air meets Ravenclaw liquid,_ thought Draco; _it's time to add Hufflepuff earth._

He broke the twig in little pieces and, cupping them in his hands, threw them into the pestle where he crushed them into a fine powder.

He added it to the cauldron, stepping back at the cloud of blue vapor rising to the stone ceiling. He stirred clockwise, nudging the potion along until it turned a bright purple.

The color didn't look right. There was an ingredient the potion lacked to give it heart, something fiery and Gryffindor.

Draco sighed as he made his way to the cupboard and picked up a vial full of a thick, dark red sludge. This was the salamander blood he had stolen from Harry's bench in third year, leading to yet another failed potion for Potter.

Leaning down, he uncorked the vial and upended it; the thick liquid plopped down into the cauldron, turning the potion a rich blue.

Draco stirred counterclockwise for a while, but the potion didn't change color. It needed a vital piece to blend it all, the way the Sorting Hat had always insisted the Houses should stand together.

Time to add the dragon's blood.

He uncorked the bottle with trembling fingers and canted it towards the cauldron. The vermillion liquid fell slowly, and the potion emitted sparks, along with thin azure wisps.

Draco groaned as he picked up the stirrer and used it to blend the ingredients. He tried to coax the potion to yield the rich magenta vapor he had read about, but it was in vain.

He glared at the cauldron, running his fingers through his hair. He had been so near, but the potion had failed!

It needed something else. The dragon's blood wasn't enough, it didn't seem to bind all ingredients the way it should.

He paced to and fro, his hands stuck in his pockets. He could go to Hogwarts and talk to Severus, but he felt time was running short.

Draco stopped near the window, raising his hand to touch the bookshelf as he glanced at it. He read the words on the spines of the books, wondering if he should consult them once more. When his glance fell on _Numerology and Grammatica_ , his Arithmancy textbook, Draco's eyes lit up when he recalled Ron's advice.

If Ron could transfigure chess pieces into pebbles without changing the pattern of the chess game, surely Draco could do the same, using Arithmancy to find the ingredient that would balance out the potion.

He went to the table and scribbled on a piece of parchment, his brow furrowed as he added up the magical properties of the letters forming the words: dragon's blood.

He ended up with a complex number, and proceeded to get its imaginary and magical roots. His eyes widened at the answer, for it was so simple and elegant he wondered why he hadn't seen it before.

Picking up a knife, he went to the cauldron and nicked his thumb. Draco's blood dripped down into the potion which shimmered for a moment, becoming almost translucent, its color changing rapidly until it settled into a pale blue with clouds of magenta vapor which rose to brush the ceiling.

Having finally brewed the _Nativitatis_ potion out of the four elements and the Houses of Hogwarts, Draco poured the contents of the cauldron into the crystal bowl.

He stepped back, wiping his sweaty brow as he admired the iridescent colors which told him he had succeeded.

Draco took out his wand and _accioed_ a vial from the cupboard to hold the potion.

oOoOo

Draco lay on the bed, his head pillowed in his arms as he thought about the future. Given the way he had brewed the potion, an apprenticeship to a Potions Master seem assured.

He yawned, his eyelids drooping as his exertions finally caught up with him; but just when he was falling asleep, loud knocks on his bedroom door startled him.

Draco propped himself on his elbows just before Ron burst through the door.

"Malfoy, you've got to help us!"

"What? What do you mean?"

"We lost Harry!" Ron walked up to him, grabbing Draco by the shoulders. "Mione and I were in that bloody dinner, keeping our eyes on Harry, but then one of Fred and George's pranks exploded. It was a nightmare!"

"A prank?" said Draco thickly.

"We were distracted and when everything went back to normal, Harry wasn't there!" Ron yanked his hair in desperation. "I fear the worst. You finished that potion?"

"I managed to brew it." Draco nodded and scooted towards the foot of the bed to grab the vial. "Let's go!"

The two wizards walked through the frozen Hogwarts lawn. Draco snuggled into his cloak, his fingers brushing the potions vial as if it was a talisman to ward off evil. Ron trudged through the snow in front of him, his red hair a bright speck of color amid the icy branches of the tree.

Draco gazed up at them as he caught up with Ron, recalling how much he enjoyed climbing the trees to gaze down at the students, his eyes invariably drawn to Harry's ruffled hair.

His fingers clasping the vial, Draco cocked his chin at the sprawling castle. "How can we find Harry inside?"

"Don't know, Draco," Ron said, his breath puffing up in the cold air as he nodded to Hermione, who was waiting in front of the wooden door.

"I have the way to find him," she said. "Remember the brooch you gave him, Draco?"

"Bloody thing didn't prove very useful," Draco muttered as the three made their way inside the castle. "It didn't save him like I wanted!"

"It has the Gringotts tracking spell, though," Hermione said determinedly. "It's designed to withstand powerful magic, so I doubt his captors can disable it!"

She took out her wand and flicked it with verve, mumbling a spell too low for Draco to hear. A brief thread of light shot out of her wand, zigzagging this way and that until it disappeared down the stairs that led to the Slytherin dungeons.

"Figures," muttered Draco. "If Slughorn is behind this, that's where he would keep Harry; besides, in my dream he was in a potions lab."

They descended the stairs, shivering at the cold of the dank corridors. The faint remnants of the tracking spell led them on, until the traces vanished at the juncture of two corridors.

"Where to?" whispered Ron, clutching his wand. "Do you know where Slughorn's quarters are?"

"That way." Draco cocked his head to the right. "But I doubt he would use them to kidnap a student, we'll have to…"

"Pssssst, you out there!" The sibilant words caught their attention, and Ron pointed at a portrait just behind Hermione.

Draco walked up to it. The frame held the painting of a long snake, its bright green body coiled around the branch of a tree.

"How can I understand you? I don't speak Parseltongue," Draco said.

The snake rolled his eyes, baring his fangs at him. "Because I'm a portrait, dummy!"

Draco glared at the serpent. "Listen, you filthy reptile, have you seen Harry Potter?"

"Don't get your knickersssss in a knot!" hissed the snake reprovingly. "The sssspeaker of the true tongue isss that way." He pointed with his tail to the left.

"Fine, we'll take that corridor," said Hermione, patting Ron's shoulder.

The three were distracted conversing with the snake, so they were startled when the portrait hissed in alarm, "Watch out!"

It was too late because out of the darkness, twin bolts of light shot towards Ron and Hermione and brought them down; meanwhile, Draco grappled with writhing ropes which inexorably coiled around him until there was no possibility of escape.

"Well, well, what have we got here?" said Horace Slughorn, ambling towards them, his corpulent frame looming out of the darkness when he stepped into the cone of light cast by a sconce.

Draco narrowed his eyes at his Head of House, a shiver shooting up his spine at the odd way Slughorn moved, for it brought to his mind frightful recollections of his past.


	21. Twenty-one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW photo

 

 

With a flick of his wand, Slughorn lifted Draco's bound body and directed him towards the end of the corridor.

Draco took a deep breath, trying to quell the panic rising inside, his heart galloping madly like a startled Pegasus. He twisted his neck to glance at Slughorn, whose bald pate was pearled with sweat by the light of the sconces. There was something unnerving about the man's stiff frame and this, coupled with the ominous silence, made him recall one winter day in Hogsmeade.

Slughorn's glassy stare, the way he plodded along behind Draco in total silence – it could only mean one thing.

Draco tilted down his chin to gaze at his bindings, squirming to snake his hand inside his robes and get his wand. It was useless, though, because the ropes tightened when they sensed his movement. When he glanced up, he was already inside the poorly lit potions lab; with dread pooling in his stomach, he noticed the shelf on his left held a small bottle with a metallic cap.

Inside, a tiny nude man writhed slowly. It was Harry.

Draco closed his eyes, his face twisted in a desperate grimace. The violence he had thought long behind him was staring him in the face. He tried to collect his thoughts, to avoid the painful recollection of the Dark Lord casting Avada at Professor Burbage, and Riddle's hideous features contorting with sadistic glee while he tortured his mother and father. Draco felt the same hopelessness that encroached him when he recognized Harry's face in the Manor, when he shrank back at the thought that the Snatchers had captured his secret crush.

There had to be a way out of this, thought Draco in despair. To evade the dread pervading his mind, Draco twisted his neck to stare at the door.

"You can come out, Theo," he snarled.

"Well, how did you know I was working with dear Professor Slughorn?" Theo Nott drawled lazily as he sauntered into the room, his stringy frame made even thinner when he stood at the junction of two rows of shelves.

Draco glanced at Slughorn's unmoving figure. "Quit playing the innocent, Theo. I recognize the symptoms. You cast _Imperio_ on him!"

"I forgot, Malfoy, that you are well acquainted with the curse; after all, you used it on Rosmerta when you fumbled the Dark Lord's orders!"

Draco recoiled at that. He shivered minutely, and then he narrowed his eyes at Nott. "I had to, or else the Dark Lord would've killed my parents! What's your excuse? No one is pointing a wand at your mother."

"My mother's dead, idiot!" Theo growled. "It's my stepmother you're thinking of, but of course the Malfoy brat has never deigned to know me better!"

"What do you want with Potter, Theo?" Draco said, wiggling as he tried to back up towards the edge of the shelf to cut the rope. "Are you trying to resurrect the Dark Lord?"

Theo barked a sharp laugh and then he stepped towards the shelf, leaning down to pick up the bottle that held Harry. He hefted it towards Draco, his lips curling in a malicious leer. "You would think that, wouldn't you? You always cowered before the Dark Lord."

"Same as you," Draco spat out defiantly. "Same as everybody except my crazy aunt!"

"You have a point, Malfoy." Theo snorted and then he threw the bottle in the air while Draco bit back a scream. He caught it easily on his palm and made a fist around it. "I don't intend something as asinine as bringing back the noseless bastard."

"Then what do you want with Harry?" said Draco, his voice breaking at the name of his boyfriend.

Theo walked to the shelf and put the bottle there, patting softly the metallic cap. Then he glanced at Draco. "It's simple, I want his power." Theo gazed at the shelf, saying in a low voice, "I seek a distillation of Potter's magical essence, to transfer to me that which makes him the strongest wizard that ever lived."

"What?" Draco said thickly. This might be one of the uses of the Christmas potion. Could it be that Theo forced Slughorn to brew _Nativitatis_ while under Imperio?

Then Draco shook his head at that, realizing that brewing the potion required sharp judgment, something Slughorn would be unable to muster under the Dark curse.

"Do you think I can't do it? That I'm unable to?" Theo scowled at Draco and waved his hand at Slughorn. "I have a Potions Master at my command and if that isn't enough, why, I also have the pesky Weasley twins!"

"You used the _Imperius_ on the twins?" said Draco with a shiver. Somehow, this was an even worse violation than casting the Dark curse on Slughorn; after all, Draco did not care much for his Head of House while he had grown quite fond of the twins.

"I did," Theo gloated. "Used it on one of them, and their twin bond made it a breeze to cast it on the other. Nudged it up a tad to suggest it is all a great prank and the fools fell for it!"

Draco nodded dumbly.

"They used one of their pranks to distract everyone in Slughorn's idiotic party so I could curse Potter!" Theo glowered at two boxes on the potions bench, neatly labeled as WWW products. "The idiots failed to get me that stupid heirloom you gave Potter, though."

"How did you find out about that?" Draco said in a whisper, feeling the world closing in around him. Had Theo imperio'ed his mother or his father? Perhaps he had an accomplice, Draco thought as he tilted down his chin, his blond hair hiding the defeated expression on his face. "I reckon Pansy told you."

"Not Pansy; silly girl wouldn't betray you. Shows you she isn't worthy to be in Slytherin!" Theo said, curling up his lips in a leer. "It was your house-elf."

"Muggy?"

Theo nodded. "I only had to suggest Potter might hurt her precious master, and she was ready to spill the secrets, foolish elf!"

While Theo was busy gloating in the same manner of the Dark Lord he so despised, Draco noticed that the two boxes with pranks were throbbing. He arched his eyebrow at that; if Theo thought he controlled completely the twins, he was wrong.

Draco knew the irrepressible way Fred and George acted, and he had no doubt that the prank they had thought up would go way beyond what Theo suspected. Furthermore, Ron and Hermione were in the dungeons, and Draco earnestly hoped they would wake up and come storming through the door any minute.

Draco realized that he was not alone this time. Last year, he had faced utter darkness completely on his own; now he had Harry's friends by his side.

More than that, he had Harry to fight for.

His spirits lifted up, Draco tilted up his chin to gaze at Theo, intent on distracting the gloating Slytherin.

"You're more of a fool than she is, Nott," Draco said. "It will be nigh impossible to distill Harry's power."

"I have time, Malfoy," Theo snarled, his gaze fixed on Draco. "If it takes years to do it, I can wait. I could blame you for Potter's disappearance and have you sent to Azkaban; everybody knows you couldn't stand Potter!"

"Would you do that?" Draco said, his voice wavering on purpose as he sought to distract Theo from the boxes which were pulsing in the dim light.

"Not unless you force me." Theo narrowed his eyes at him. "It will be far more pleasurable to watch you squirm, Malfoy, knowing that I have Potter's fate in my hands. You see, there's no counter spell for the potion and curse I used on him."

"Is that so?"

"Indeed it is so. Or I can cast Imperio on you." Theo took out his wand and pointed it at Draco. "How would you like to know what Rosmerta felt?"

Draco shrank back and closed his eyes, expecting to feel the curse washing over him, but he heard a loud roar instead.

He opened his eyes and saw a geyser of multicolored hues springing up from the table; when it rained upon Theo's arm, both the sleeve of his robes and his wand vanished.

The prank caused the table to disappear and the vials fell to the floor, the sound of breaking glass further distracting Theo while Draco hurled himself towards the rivulets of bright azure and green that ran in the cobbled floor, groaning as the floor hit hard his right shoulder.

The twin's prank ran its course, and the ropes binding Draco vanished, together with most of his robes. Draco heaved himself, shouting at the excruciating pain up on his dislocated shoulder while he tried to hold his wand aloft so it wouldn't disappear

He squatted on his haunches and shrugged off his tattered robes to swish his wand at Nott and cast _Incarcerous._

Dismissing the writhing traitor at his feet, Draco winced as he made his way to the shelf where he spent a few seconds casting a healing spell on himself. His heart throbbed painfully in his chest as he gazed at the diminutive figure of his boyfriend. Draco cradled the bottle tenderly between his hands and bent down to lay it on the floor, and then he rummaged in the pockets of his trousers until his fingers clasped around the _Nativitatis_ vial.

With a trembling hand, Draco uncapped the bottle, gazing down at his trapped boyfriend inside before he upended the vial and took a step back.

The potion mixed with the contents of Harry's watery prison for a few seconds, and then a bright magenta cloud shot up until it reached the ceiling; it had streaks of red, yellow, green, blue, bronze, and the whole spectrum of the Hogwarts Houses.

Draco coughed, and raised his left arm to shield his eyes. When he opened his eyelids, he noticed Harry lying supine on the floor, his back bleeding from the cuts of his broken glass prison. He crouched above him, pale fingers caressing sweaty locks.

"Harry, are you all right? Come on, Potter, answer me!" Draco babbled, his fingers wrapping around Harry's chest; when he felt Harry's heart beating strongly under his fingertips, Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

Foregoing the use of _Wingardium leviosa_ , Draco hooked his arms around Harry's torso and legs and lifted the unconscious Gryffindor.

It was on the corridor that he found Hermione and Ron waking up.

"Wassup?" said Ron groggily.

"Come with me." Draco cocked his head at the other end of the corridor. "Harry's hurt; I'm taking him to the infirmary."

"What happened?" said Hermione.

"Tell you later, Hermione." Draco glanced back at the corridor. "We'll have to tell McGonagall to call the Aurors, but let's see to Harry first."

As the four students passed the portrait, the snake looked at them and uncoiled his tail to wave it towards them.

The serpent hissed in satisfaction. "I alwayssss wondered why you had so many stiff tentacles. At least they are good for something."

oOoOo

Two wizards stood on the front of Gringotts, their shocks of black and blond hair contrasting nicely with the snowy street.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Harry wiggled his eyebrows at Draco.

"I have to. There might be others like Theo, drunk on power." Draco patted the pockets of his robes. "It's better to keep safe the recipe to brew the Christmas potion."

Harry leaned closer to Draco's tall frame, his fingers trailing a path up his neck. "You could use it to win a potions apprenticeship."

"I can earn it another way, though I have to say the potion worked wonders to bolster my confidence." Draco smirked at him. "Besides, I think the ancient Potions Masters had good reasons to keep it under wraps. There are some things the world will never be ready for."

Harry smiled a tad guiltily, thinking about the secret of the Horcruxes which he hadn't confided in Draco yet.

As he gazed at the chiseled features of his boyfriend, Harry's heart leaped with joy, for there would be many Christmases to come in which to grow closer and whisper secrets in the dark to Draco, the wizard who had caught his heart at last despite the odds.

Harry tenderly cradled Draco's pale cheeks between his hands as he leaned forward, their lips meeting in a kiss that hinted at pleasures to come; their bodies cuddling around each other just like the wings of the Snitch that wakes to fly away in the blue sky to start another game.


	22. Twenty-two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic sex, NSFW photo and manip, drama, and plot twist.

 

 

Draco closed the wooden door with his back while his hips rutted into Harry's backside.

"Finally we got rid of your friends," he drawled, his knees shoving Harry towards the bed. He twisted his neck to glance at the door. "Are those wards secure?"

He didn't want Harry's friends to barge into the master bedroom of Grimmauld Place while he was otherwise engaged with Harry.

"Reckon they are. Thank Merlin Ron and Hermione had to go to the Burrow, because she wanted to drill you about your potion," Harry said, his chest heaving up and down while his hand palmed his burgeoning erection.

"That can wait." Draco's fingers gripped his wand and then he took it out, flicking his wrist to get rid of their clothes while Harry slowly turned to face him, the back of his knees pushing into the mattress.

Harry's heated gaze drew the length of his boyfriend's nude body, delighting in the creamy skin which was unblemished except for the remnants of the Dark Mark on his left arm.

Draco's breath hitched as he gazed at Harry's eyes, dark with lust. He leaned towards him, pale fingers closing around the rim of his glasses to gently take them off as he looked sharply at him. "Are you all right?"

"Madam Pomfrey said I was. Gave me a clean bill of health, though she mentioned something about my magic being a little off." Harry shrugged

"I reckon it's the lingering effect of the potion." Draco shrugged as he settled between Harry's legs. He leaned down to place the glasses on the floor, near an abandoned Christmas ornament lying forlornly next to the bed, his fingers tracing idle patterns on Harry's inner thighs.

Harry shivered at the sight of the blond hair gleaming in the lamplight, falling beautifully over his midriff as Draco bent down to kiss his arousal, tongue laving the glistening purple crown. He reached out his hand to play with the silky strands, biting back a moan of disappointment when Draco tilted up his chin to look at him, breaking contact with his needy erection.

"I'm going to shag you silly," Draco said, voice heavy with desire.

"Promises, Malfoy, promises."

Draco growled and picked up his wand to cast Lubricio, his eyes widening at the delicious sight of Harry's furled hole twitching impatiently. His hands hastened to knead the meat of Harry's perfect rump, his thumbs spreading him open to his hungry gaze.

"Can't wait to be inside you and wedge you open on my cock, Potter," Draco said, his fingers breaching the tight entrance, stilling for a moment until he was sure Harry was comfortable, and then scissoring around the tight heat.

Harry moaned and spread his legs, aching to be filled and used while he clenched hard around Draco's fingers. He looked down between his legs at Draco's blond head, noting a thread of precome which joined his shaft to his abdomen.

Draco pulled up Harry's legs, draping them over his shoulder, the movement causing his cock head to glance over Harry's slick entrance.

He smirked at Harry's needy whimper, and his fingers sneaked down between Harry's legs to grab his dick, his hips thrusting forward until the slick cock head drew inside Harry's welcoming heat.

Draco paused, luxuriating in the wet muscles clenching hard around him. The mattress dipped under his weight as he scooted on his knees upon the bed, slowly sheathing himself inside his lover's body as he pushed Harry forward.

Harry arched his back, moaning as the thick cock dragged against his walls while Draco rose up on his knees, the angle allowing his dick to nudge his prostate as the penetration deepened.

Draco's fingers gripped his hips and he fucked into Harry, the slapping sound of his balls against Harry's rump mixing with their groans.

"Harder, Malfoy, harder!" Harry's skin glistened with sweat, a stray lock hiding the curse scar as his fingers gripped the duvet, his neglected arousal bobbing over his abs.

Hips bucking forward into Harry, Draco leaned down to kiss those pouty lips while Harry raised his hand to yank Draco's hair. Harry groaned at the weight of Draco over and inside him and the slow glide of the thick dick deep in his body. The delicious friction of Draco's taut abs against his cockhead drew shivers from him. He was so close to orgasm, his fingers reached down and closed in a fist around his throbbing erection, his hand moving up and down his shaft in a blur while Draco's hips bucked wildly.

Draco's thrusts grew erratic as passion overtook him, his dick jabbing occasionally the small nub inside Harry that made him writhe on his cock.

During a harsh thrust, Harry squeezed hard around him and came with a low moan, thick ropes of come coating his fingers and dripping down his abs. The exquisite feeling of the wet heat closing in around him urged Draco on; he fucked into Harry several times before he came, his seed coating Harry's insides.

The two wizards lay on a tangle of arms and legs before Draco slipped out of Harry, his dick leaving its warm sheath with a lewd popping sound.

Harry winced at the empty sensation as Draco rolled sideways, snuggling close to his lover while he lowered his other arm to reach blindly for his wand.

After cleaning them up, Draco lay next to Harry, one arm looped around the slim waist.

oOoOo

Harry woke up in the night, the sated way his body ached bringing to his mind their lovemaking. His fingers reached for Draco but didn't find him. He propped himself up on his elbows, blinking owlishly as his gaze slid across the room until he noticed Draco. He was on his knees, his hands splayed on the floor as if he sought connection for some strange for of meditation.

Harry's cock twitched at the sleek muscles of his nude boyfriend, and then he draped the sheets around him, standing up and making his way towards him.

He drank the sight of Draco's creamy skin and the supple lines of his muscles which displayed his perfect body, marred only by a line of runes drawn along his wrist, the Muggle necklace which Harry suspected was Luna's gift, and the faint traces of the Dark Mark on his forearm.

Unmindful of Harry's gaze, Draco crossed his legs and assumed a lotus position, his long arms resting on his lap as he bent his elbows to join his palms as if he was praying.

"Draco," Harry said softly. When his boyfriend didn't react, Harry patted his shoulder.

Draco shivered, craning his neck to gaze up at Harry. "Sorry, I was trying to meditate Luna's way. She says it helps with stress."

"So our lovemaking stressed you?" Harry said with a scowl.

"Not at all. I just had a bad dream." Draco sighed and tilted up his chin to gaze at the ceiling, the long line of his exposed neck drawing a shiver from Harry.

"Another prophetic dream?"

"I'm not sure," Draco said sharply. "Didn't feel like one for sure."

"So what was it about?" Harry said, offering his hand to Draco; the blond grabbed it and heaved himself up. The two then made his way to the rumpled bed where they sat down.

"It was something of a nightmare," Draco said slowly. "I was in a dark room. There were two huge tubes, filled with a disgusting green liquid. There were shapes swimming inside."

Harry nodded slowly. It seemed to him like a scenario from a science-fiction movie he had seen when he was a child. "It was just a nightmare."

"Then one of the cylinders broke," said Draco. "And the man inside gasped for air and leaned over the broken rim." His fingers reached blindly for Harry's hand and closed tightly around his wrist. "He was bald. When he glanced up at me and I saw his red eyes, they were just like the Dark Lord's."

"It's nothing, Draco." Harry patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Theo is in prison, and his plot was undone."

"I know, but there's something that nags me," Draco said. "Granted that Theo is smart, but the things he pulled seem a tad out of his reach."

"Like casting _Imperio_ on the twins." Harry nodded, his shoulders shrugging off the sheet. "Maybe he had an accomplice, someone like Pansy?"

"Pansy doesn't like you, there's nothing more to it." Draco shrugged tiredly. "Neither does Father, for that matter."

"You think your father might be behind all this?" Harry said wonderingly. "To bring back Voldemort?"

"He wouldn't!" Draco shook his head forcefully. "He chafed under the Dark Lord. Sure, he's bored with imprisonment, but he wouldn't dare pull all that."

"Your house-elf doesn't like me either," Harry said. He shook his head at the thought that Lucius, being the Master of the Manor, could easily command Muggy to do his bidding.

"Muggy's protective of me, that's all."

"You sure the dream wasn't prophetic?" Harry raised his eyebrow at Draco.

"Felt like any other dream; or nightmare, rather."

"Hermione says dreams are the expression of the subconscious."

"What are you on about, Harry?" Draco looked wonderingly at him.

"She says they are the means by which the mind processes subtle hints it has seen during the day, and that prophetic dreams are just points the subconscious wants to get across."

"So you mean to tell me there was a hint in the way that bloody snake mocked me, Slughorn's beady eyes, or the way Theo gloated over casting _Imperius_ at the twins?" Draco glanced sharply at him.

"Exactly," Harry said. "Who knows? Maybe that twin bond you told me about allowed them to resist the Imperius Curse."

"Nonsense!" Draco snorted. "Next you'll be telling me Mother is behind all this!"

Noting Draco's glare, Harry refrained from pointing out that anybody might be suspect; instead, he said, "My years at Hogwarts taught me that everyone might be trying to get me. Remember Crouch Jr. using Polyjuice?"

"That was dreadful." Draco shuddered, and then he cupped his chin with his hands as he stared at the window. "I was wrong in taking the vial of _Nativitatis_ to Gringotts. Should've kept some here so you would be protected."

"Well, you could brew more." Harry suggested.

Draco didn't hear him, though; he went on, "I reckon if you had taken it just before you faced the Dark Lord, you would have torn him to pieces, and the Death Eaters' luck would have run out at last!"

Draco's words called up a wisp of a thought in Harry's mind, and he decided to consult Hermione in the morning.

oOoOo

"You want to know about the uses of dragon's blood?" Hermione said, her gaze falling on the book she was cradling between her hands, the Moste Potente Potions.

"Why did Theo want to hoard it all?" Harry arched his eyebrow at her.

"I could help you more if Draco hadn't been so guarded about his potion!" she huffed.

"He thinks if it got out, people might want to get their grubby hands on it." Harry shrugged. "He did tell me he used dragon's blood to brew it."

Hermione rubbed her forehead with her fingers, her gaze sliding towards the Christmas tree under the stairs. "I've read some potions journals that have interesting news. The Potions Master at Durmstrang wrote about experiments he's been doing with dragon's blood. He reported that it might be useful to improve magical effects when drinking certain potions."

"Like what?" Harry said.

"Polyjuice for example. Adding dragon's blood at a key point while brewing might allow the drinker to remain in the shape they choose for weeks, without having to take Polyjuice every hour."

"Would've come in handy in Second Year," Harry muttered.

"Exactly. Dragon's blood could also serve to lessen adverse effects of certain brews, like Dreamless Sleep or Felix felicis, according to the potions teacher at Beauxbatons."

Harry frowned at that, trying to remember something Slughorn had mentioned in one of his classes.

He glanced up at the swooshing sounds coming from the chimney, and the corners of his lips twisted in a smile at the figure of his best friend stumbling out.

Ron brushed the ashes off his robes and nodded at them, his blue eyes narrowing at Harry. "Funny, I thought you were with Draco."

"What?"

"Bill called the twins. Something about their Gringotts account, I reckon." Ron walked up to them and sat on the couch. "He mentioned one of the goblins told him Draco was there."

In that moment, all the hints drew together to form the solution of the puzzle in Harry's mind. He stood up hastily, taking out his wand to Apparate, for he had the gnawing suspicion Draco was in danger.

oOoOo

"Bloody goblins should install a lift or something," Draco muttered, his handsome features even paler after that hellish ride.

He nodded curtly at the goblin, whose name he hadn't caught, before sauntering towards the door of Malfoy Vault Number Five. Fishing out the golden key from the pockets of his robes, he slid it inside the keyhole and turned it, his palm flat against the ornate door as he pushed it open.

He sighed at the shelves, some of which were bare after the hefty reparations bill the Wizengamot imposed on the Malfoys. Then he stuck his hands in his pockets and walked toward the shelf where he had put his notes and the vial of the Christmas potion.

It was in midstride that the shooting beam of a curse met him, causing him to fall to the floor and hit his shoulder again. Cursing loudly, he couldn't hear the soft steps of the figure that approached him, until he looked up to gaze at a face he knew well.


	23. Twenty-three

 

 

"Stand up, my boy," said the man towering over Draco's prone body. The wizard idly swished his wand, casting a spell around Draco that slowed the movements of his body.

Glancing up at the looming wizard, Draco's eyes widened in astonishment. "What are you doing here, Slughorn? I thought you were in St. Mungo's, recovering from _Imperio_."

"They couldn't hold me there, my boy." Slughorn walked towards the shelf on his right side while Draco stood up slowly, feeling as if he were moving inside a pool filled with molasses.

Draco shook his head, wondering if the spell that apparently slowed his body did the same with his mind, for he couldn't wrap his head around Slughorn's presence inside the Malfoy Vault. The goblins' alarms should have gone off by now, not to mention the diverse enchantments designed to trap thieves.

"How did you get inside?" Draco waved his hand, the slowness of his motion eliciting a groan out of him.

"The goblins called me because they need my help brewing a potion to counter a Dark curse," Slughorn said, sticking his hands in the pockets of his striped vest. "Ironclasp remembered the key ingredient was in the next vault. Unfortunately he was a tad confused; understandably so, I might add, since he was the one who's suffering under the curse. So the poor lad opened this vault instead; he had to go because his superior called him."

Draco scrunched up his brow at that. Confusion swirled in his mind at the turn of events because the unlikely circumstances Slughorn related in so smug a manner were completely implausible. Slughorn had to be in cahoots with the goblins, or he prepared a potion to enslave them, perhaps even cast _Imperio_ on them. It was unbelievable that the goblins would simply let him enter his vault by mistake!

"Never mind how I got here, Malfoy." Slughorn stuck his chin to his chest, glancing at Draco over his brow. "I need the _Nativitatis_ potion."

"So you know about it!" Draco said loudly. "You're Theo's accomplice! You weren't under _Imperio_!"

"Not at all, my boy," Slughorn said. "I assure you young Nott did indeed cast the _Imperius_ curse on me. After all, that was the reason I invited him to join my Club, despite the poor reputation of his family."

"What?" Draco briefly closed his eyes, his heart thudding madly against his ribs. "You wanted him to cast the curse on you?"

"Something like that." Slughorn took out a handkerchief to wipe his sweaty brow. "Hand me the potion now, if you please."

"Why do you want it?" Draco whispered.

"To add the crowning jewel to my collection," Slughorn said. "Tom Riddle Jr."

Draco groaned, his shoulders drooping at the mention of the Dark Lord.

A swift movement near the door of the vault distracted him, and he shivered when he recognized Harry. His boyfriend had Apparated inside Gringotts!

"Harry, my boy," Slughorn said nonchalantly. "Your presence here is providential; you might be the key to young Malfoy coughing up the potion."

"Slughorn," Harry muttered, walking towards Draco and patting him on the shoulder. "Something Draco said made me suspect it was you."

"What?" Draco said, cocking his head at Slughorn to indicate that Harry should disarm him.

"You said something about luck," Harry said, ignoring Draco's obvious hint. "It made me think about Felix felicis, and the man who has drunk it several times."

"Felix felicis?" Draco said dumbly.

Harry leaned towards him to whisper in his ear, "Exactly, that's why I can't hex him; under the effect of the Luck potion, the spell might ricochet and hurt you or me"

While Harry and Draco talked, Slughorn ambled between the shelves, examining the ornate antiques with the air of someone who did not have a care in the world.

"Very interesting, Harry my boy," said Slughorn condescendingly as he hefted a porcelain vase in the form of a twisted dragon. "Might I ask how you arrived at your conclusion?"

"I know the effects of _felicis_ ," Harry muttered through gritted teeth, glancing at the portly wizard. "When you drink it, you're full of confidence and choose the unlikeliest path while the world shifts around you, bending itself to offer you what you most want."

Harry gripped his wand tightly, very tempted to use it against Slughorn; yet he dared not hex Slughorn for another reason he hadn't disclosed to Draco.

Slughorn enjoyed the considerable advantage of being under the Luck potion and could easily disarm Harry to become the master of the Elder wand. Though Harry had thrown it away, he knew well the serendipitous way the Luck potion worked. He had no doubt that if Slughorn had it in his mind, the Elder wand would find its way to him.

So Harry held his peace, his mind working feverishly to find the correct form to act against Slughorn, to trip him up in this disadvantageous situation in the same manner that Harry had outwitted Voldemort during the Final Battle.

Knowing that the Luck potion created in the drinker the notion of omnipotence, Harry decided to make Slughorn talk. The more the Potions professor exposed his plans, the more knowledge Harry would glean to fashion his plan.

"Not quite exactly right, Harry," Slughorn said at last. "The world will give you what you _need_ , not what you want. And I need to make it up to poor Tom."

"The Dark Lord an innocent?" Draco growled.

"Tom wasn't exactly a victim," Harry said, making shooing motions with his hand to shut up Draco. He needed to find out Slughorn's plans.

"Indeed, my boy, indeed." Slughorn reclined on the shelf, his fingers drumming against the wood. "The _Nativitatis_ potion will bring him back at an early age, when he's still manageable."

"So you can mold him," Draco said, ignoring Harry's body language. "Is that why you wanted Harry? So you can bend him, too?"

"Felix felicis works in inscrutable ways," Slughorn said, his gaze directed at Harry. "I need Tom to correct the error I made with him long ago; but if magic should give me the great Harry Potter to add to my collection, who am I to argue?"

"But you were under _Imperio_!" Draco shuddered when he recalled the anguish he felt in the Manor under Voldemort's dreadful gaze, wondering if the Dark Lord would one day decide to use the Imperius Curse on a whim. "Where's the luck in that?"

"What is more powerful, a potion or a spell?" Slughorn said grandly, waving his arm at the ample vault as if the Malfoy antiques were the students in a potions class. "The magic powering a spell is rough and uncouth, while that which imbues a potion is subtle and far, far more lasting and stronger."

"So you invited Nott to your club with the intention of using him?" Harry said.

"I invited young Theo because my instincts told me so." Slughorn smiled fleetingly, his fingers brushing the sundry vases on the shelf. "The magic in _felicis_ was acting, you see, in the same manner which made your attraction to Malfoy visible."

"Is that so?" Draco said slowly, his heart thudding painfully at the thought that Harry's love for him might well be a secondary effect of the Felix felicis potion.

"It is so," Slughorn said, his fingers closing on a vial which was hidden between two Ming vases, the same one that held the Christmas potion. "I've found it at last."

"Is that…" Harry whispered, cocking his chin at Slughorn.

"It's the correct vial." Draco nodded.

"This is a unique potion." Slughorn studied the magenta shades swirling inside the vial. "You might consider it a spell become liquid, so strong is its magic. That is the reason Severus never attempted to brew it; he hated using his wand, preferring the beauty that lies in the magic wrought through a cauldron, for this is the potion that most closely resembles a spell."

Draco sighed dejectedly while Harry fidgeted, his fingers gripped tightly around his wand.

"Tradition holds this is the potion that increased Morgana's powers," Slughorn said, eyeing intently the vial.

"So she was the first one to brew it?" Harry asked.

"No, my boy. Morgana tricked Merlin, and he was the one who brewed it. _Nativitatis_ can be created only by a strong heart, a person in the grip of true love whose magic acts nobly." Slughorn smiled self-deprecatingly. "I'm afraid that has never been me, hence the need to drink the Luck potion to obtain this." He held aloft the vial.

Hearing Slughorn brag about his plans, Harry realized the old potions professor had been drinking Felix felicis for quite some time. He probably used it to ensure he survived the Final Battle, and once he acquired the habit, he couldn't just stop. If Hermione was right, and one of the new uses of dragon's blood was to lessen the secondary effects of drinking the Luck potion, Slughorn might have heard of it and used it to guard himself in his addiction, hence all the dragon's blood he had hoarded.

And yet Slughorn was too self-confident, too unaware of the danger he was in; so it appeared he hadn't completely escaped the dangers posed by the Luck potion.

Harry frowned at that. The magic of the Christmas potion still coursed through him, Madam Pomfrey had said so; furthermore, that magic had allowed him to bypass the goblin wards around Gringotts. If the potion was as strong as Slughorn said, and the old man's reasoning concerning his imbibing the Luck potion was faulty, Harry had to force a confrontation, a situation which would measure the magic of the two potions acting directly against each other.

"Too bad that vial is the only one you have," Harry goaded him.

"Why do you say that, Harry?" Slughorn arched his eyebrow at him.

"You've said you can't brew the potion yourself," Harry said. "What will happen when it runs out? Will you force Draco to make more?"

"I might have to." Slughorn narrowed his eyes at Harry. "And you provide an excellent motivation for young Malfoy to do so."

"You won't touch Harry," Draco growled, walking towards his boyfriend while Slughorn fished out his wand out of his jacket, but his movements were very slow due to the spell Slughorn had cast.

"I'm afraid I'll have to hurt you a bit, my boy," Slughorn said, a feverish gleam in his eyes as he raised his wand towards Harry, who stood his ground. "It won't last too long, just enough to convince Malfoy I mean business."

Harry gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to pull out his wand. He had faith in Draco's abilities, in the magic that had flowed in his veins at the sight of Draco long before _Nativitatis_ had saved him from Theo's clutches.

"No!" Draco screamed, his hand moving towards Harry excruciatingly slow.

" _Crucio_!" Slughorn said, casting the Dark curse which shot towards Harry.

Harry closed his eyes and thus missed seeing the bolt of magic that washed over him, covering his body in a bright shroud of magical bolts zigzagging from his head to his toes before fading upon touching the floor.

The magic of the two potions interacted but a few seconds, and _Nativitatis_ won the upper hand. It was the older and stronger potion which did not depend on twisting the universe to fulfill the wishes of the drinker. It merely reaffirmed the foundations of the world and built upon it.

However, on being thwarted of its prize, magic rearranged itself minutely and withdrew its luck from Slughorn.

The potions professor had been under the influence of Felix felicis for far too long and when its effects ran out, he fell to the floor like a puppet whose strings are cut.

oOoOo

"Do you want more tea, dear?" Molly glanced sharply at Draco, who looked way paler than the last time she had seen him in the summer, when he was helping out at the Burrow.

"No, thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I don't want to be a bother."

"Nonsense, Draco," she said firmly. "I'm glad Ron insisted on bringing you and Harry here. By the way, I just Flooed your mother."

"Mother can't come here, she's under house arrest."

"Arthur will take care of that. Won't you, dear?"

"Sure I will, Molly." Arthur nodded, his gaze straying to the door. He wanted to ask Harry for help in fixing his celliphony, but his wife's stern gaze dissuaded him from acting on that.

"The Ministry has no business separating a boy from his parents," Molly huffed, and then she turned to go to the kitchen. "I'm going to fix you all some sandwiches. Ron, you look famished; and you too, Hermione."

"So Draco's potion prevailed against Slughorn," Hermione said once Molly had left the living room.

"It did." Harry shot a beaming smile at her, patting Draco's knee. "I had no doubt."

"Because Felix felicis made me do it," Draco said sadly.

"What are you on about?" Harry said wonderingly.

"Slughorn said you are attracted to me only because of the bloody Luck potion!" Draco growled, before standing up and making his way to the door. "I'll be in the pond, alone," he called over his shoulder.

"Oi, wait!" Harry shouted. He stood up and then stomped out of the room.

"There we go again," Ron said with a grimace. "Just when they had started to get along!"

The chimney flared to life and soon enough, George's lanky frame loomed out of the fire, followed by Fred.

"Look at those long faces!" Fred said, nudging George's elbow. "Someone's Crup died or something?"

"Draco and Harry are fighting again." Ron cocked his head at the door.

"By Merlin!" George said. "They can't break up, not when Draco passed our tests so successfully!"

"Your tests?" Hermione looked sharply at him. "What do you mean, exactly?"

"Our pranks, of course." Fred's lips curled up in a predatory smile.

Ron arched his eyebrow at his brothers. "You mean to say that all your summer pranks…"

"Exactly. They were a test designed to test Draco's mettle," Fred said proudly. "We devised them especially for him."

"Harry's lover has to be tough enough." George shrugged.

"Merlin knows Harry bends him like a pretzel as he shags him," Fred said confidently.

"Stop, I don't want to hear anything more!" Hermione made to cover her ears.

"But now the two lovers are apart, Forge," said Fred.

"This calls for our Christmas boxers!" George took out a thin box from the pockets of his jacket, and then he opened the lid to take out a pair of bright red boxers with white letters on the front which formed the sentence, _'Don't open till Christmas.'_  
  


"What do they do?" Ron said warily, studying intently the piece of clothing.

"When you put them on, they inexorably draw you towards your crush," said Fred. "We tested them on Lee Jordan, and they work beautifully."

"Wait," said Ron, eyeing sharply the twins. "Was that the reason Lee appeared to be stuck between you two last time I was in your shop?"

Hermione widened her eyes at that and she glanced up at the twins.

Fred nudged George's elbows and cocked his chin at the door. "Can't tell you right now, old boy. We have a pair of lovers to prank."

The twins dashed out of the door.

Ron stood up and made to follow them. "I'd better keep an eye on those two."

"You're right," Hermione said as she brushed her jeans, and then she stood up. "Let's go."

Ron and Hermione went out the door and up the path that led to the pond. They found Fred and George standing behind a copse of trees.

"What are they up to?" Ron whispered, nudging aside a twig to glance at his best friend and Draco-

"Listen," Fred said softly.

Harry was poking Draco's robes. "For the last time, it wasn't the bloody potion that made me fall for you, git!"

"Slughorn said so!"

Harry stepped towards Draco, looping his arm around his neck. "Do you think Slughorn has been drinking Felix felicis since our Fourth Year? He wasn't even at Hogwarts!"

"So, it's been that long…"

"Since I fell for you, git? Yeah, it's been that long!" Harry growled as he leaned towards Draco, his nose brushing against pale skin as his mouth made contact with those pouty lips.

"You're a prat, Potter," Draco breathed against Harry's tanned cheek.

"Your own prat, Malfoy, don't forget it!" Harry groaned, before his arms closed like a vise around his boyfriend.

Fred let go of the Christmas boxers with a disappointed sigh, echoed a moment later by George.

 

 


	24. Twenty-four

 

 

"Dad told me Slughorn is in St. Mungo's, in the Janus Thickey Ward." Ron cocked his head at the door of the kitchen, where his parents were talking to the Malfoys.

"Makes sense." Hermione said, cupping her hands around the mug filled with cocoa, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled the sweet scent wafting through the air. "The Felix felicis potion is not to be tickled with, he said it himself."

"Reckon he must have been brimming with confidence after he modified it with dragon's blood." Harry glanced up at his boyfriend, reaching out to brush his soft hair with his fingers.

"It's a temptation. I do know that Dumbledore took Felix felicis recreationally," Hermione said slowly.

"He should've given it to you when you faced the Dark Lord." Draco craned his neck, itching to hear what his parents were discussing with the Weasleys.

"Dumbledore wouldn't do that," Harry said.

"Besides, luck is notoriously fickle." Hermione put the cocoa mug on the table. "It might have chosen to help you following a path ultimately disastrous for all of us."

"The Luck potion plays with your head, even when you don't drink it!" Ron nodded, recalling the confidence he felt playing Quidditch under the assumption that Harry had given him the potion.

"Dumbledore wasn't tempted to use it as a crutch, the way Slughorn did." Hermione nodded firmly. "After all, the Greeks said that character is destiny, not luck."

"I still don't understand why the potion allowed him to be put under _Imperio_." Draco shook his head.

"The Luck potion must've modified the spell somewhat, like a shield. Must've been the easiest way to get what he needed." Harry took a deep breath.

"So potions are stronger than spells then?" Draco said.

"At least yours was," Harry said with a brief smile which made Draco puff up his chest.

"You're right, you know. The love potion Romilda brewed was irresistible," Ron said, his cheeks flaming when he recalled the incident in his Fifth Year.

Noting his friend's embarrassment, Harry sought to lead the conversation to less sensitive topics; he nudged up his glasses and said, "I felt compelled to go to Aragog's funeral when I took it. Led me away from what I wanted, but I got it at the end."

"Mate, don't remind me!" Ron shuddered at his remembrance of the Acromantula lair.

"Sorry." Harry shrugged. "Reckon Slughorn felt guilty, having taught Tom how to make _those things_."

"What things?" Draco arched his eyebrow at Harry.

"Tell you later, ok?" Harry shot him a smile, his fingers brushing Draco's robes.

oOoOo

Lucius looked down his nose at the worn tablecloth on the Weasleys' kitchen. Nevertheless, he put on his best obsequious smile as he bowed shallowly at Molly.

"Thanks for inviting us over, Mrs. Weasley."

Molly nodded nervously. "It's nothing, really. Draco is a good boy."

"I'm glad you think so." Lucius stepped towards Molly, leaning down his head to whisper in her ear, "It's the reason I worry about him being with Harry." Before Molly could take umbrage at the implied insult, Lucius hastened to add, "It's not Potter per se; it's just that I think they ought to wait before they get in too deep. They should follow the pureblood courting protocol."

"You think so?" Molly said doubtfully.

Meanwhile, outside the door, Fred held tight his Extendable Ear, nudging George's elbow as he whispered urgently, "You hear that, Forge? We can't let Malfoy get away with this!"

"You're right, old boy," George whispered back. "We have to put a stop to Lucius' scheming! After all, we spent a small fortune testing Draco's suitor abilities!"

Fred made shooing motions with his hand. "Wait, Narcissa is talking with dad!"

Seemingly unaware of the eavesdroppers outside the door, Narcissa touched Arthur's sleeve. "Is that a Muggle watch?"

"Exactly, Mrs. Malfoy." Arthur's lips curled up in a smile. "Doesn't work, though. It lacks the bettery."

"The what?" Narcissa arched her eyebrow and then lifted up her hand. "Never mind, I'm afraid I'm too old to learn these things. Draco, on the other hand…"

"Draco likes Muggles things?" Arthur's eyes gleamed at the prospect of having a new confidante with whom to exchange views about the wondrous things Muggles did with lektricity.

"He is a very inquisitive wizard," Narcissa said proudly. "I'm sure he will enjoy learning more. Unfortunately, he has so little time, like Harry."

"Oh, dear." Arthur smiled confidently. "I'm sure we can nudge the boys along, Mrs. Malfoy, give them time and space so they can learn things about lektricity."

"You took the words out of my mouth. You could invite him over for Christmas dinner."

"Good, idea, Mrs. Malfoy!"

Narcissa tried to hide her smirk. "And please, call me Narcissa."

Hearing the exchange through their Extendable Ears, Fred elbowed George. "Seems we won't have to prank Lucius after all."

"You're right, Gred," said George. "Narcissa is doing all our work for us."

"They're coming," muttered Fred. "We have to get out of here!"

Molly and Arthur accompanied their guests to the door. Lucius glanced at a barely lit corner of the living room and the neat Christmas tree which stood on the path of the light cast by a sconce. It was decorated in vertical layers of several colors: pink, blue, green, golden, and red at the very top.

Lucius arched his eyebrow at Molly, who shrugged.

"Dear Luna helped us decorate the tree; that girl is so sweet!" she said with a smile.

"The tree stands for equality, you know," Fred said meaningfully.

"The rainbow coalition," added George.

Lucius shrugged off their explanation and sauntered towards the door as he muttered low under his breath, "Muggles and their strange ideas."

Fred scowled at him, mumbling sullenly, "Stubborn cockblocker!"

"Did you say something, Fred?" Harry said as he walked up to the twin, his cheeks all flushed and his lips swollen.

"Nothing, Harry, nothing." Fred glanced at Harry. "Bet Draco looks worse for wear, huh?"

"He's saying goodbye to his parents," Harry said with a blush, and then he lifted the window curtain, peering at the snow-covered path.

"Expecting someone, old boy?" George said.

"Luna, I told her to meet me here," Harry said simply.

"What for?" Fred asked.

"That's her!" Harry said excitedly, foregoing to answer Fred. He hastily grabbed his coat from its perch and dashed out of the Burrow, his boots making swooshing sound in the snow.

Luna was studying intently the pristine snow, and she tilted up her chin to glance at Harry.

"Glad you could make it!" he said, his face flushed after snogging Draco, his hair stuck every which way thanks to Draco's roaming hands.

"I have to make sure the Bobbing Glimpies have not eaten the ornaments," said Luna dreamily as the two made their way to the house.

"Whatever. I asked you to come because I want your help in choosing something."

"And that is?" She stuck her hands in her winter coat.

"I want to buy an engagement ring," Harry said with a blush. "Didn't ask Hermione for help because I want it to be a surprise for them too."

"You're planning to get engaged to Hermione?" Luna said. "Ron might have something to say about that."

"No, of course not!" Harry blushed even more. "It's Draco, but I want to do it in a special way."

As Harry confided his plans, Luna smiled mysteriously and wondered if Draco wanted to see her for the same reason; the note his irate Eagle owl brought her had been cryptic.


	25. Twenty-five

 

  
Draco hefted the glass of Burgundy, peering at Harry over the rim. The soft light of the candles lent Harry a golden sheen, and the strands of his unruly hair were limned against the bright Christmas lights the twins and Luna had thrown up at the last minute.  
  
  
  
Harry and Draco were alone in the room; the Weasleys and their guests were on the lawn, enjoying the Christmas fireworks courtesy of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.  
  
Draco sighed at the recollection of his last Christmas. He had spent it huddled in his room at the Manor, shivering with dread at the thought that the Dark Lord might hold another of his impromptu evil conferences, where he would rant and kill an innocent bystander in his mad dash for power.  
  
"What's the matter?" Harry cocked an eyebrow at him, effectively yanking him from the painful past.  
  
"Was lost in memories, that's all." Draco sipped the wine, narrowing his eyes at Harry's robes. They fitted his toned body, highlighting his broad shoulders which tapered down to a slim waist, but there was something missing.  
  
"The War, huh?" Harry sighed, and then he raised his glass and motioned with it towards Draco. The two leaned towards each other and clinked their glasses together.  
  
Harry shot his boyfriend a wide grin. "Here's to new memories, which I hope won't be so painful."  
  
"Let's hope so." Draco sipped the wine, the burgundy warming his veins just like the sight of Harry's ruddy face. "Though Dark wizards seem to follow us everywhere."  
  
"Reckon it doesn't matter; I have a budding Potions Master to help me," Harry said. "And if some evil wizards hunt us, we have each other's backs."  
  
"You are correct, dear Potter." Draco smirked, his spirits lifted up at their brief banter which highlighted the most important difference to his last Christmas: now he had Harry by his side.  
  
He leaned his elbows on the table and motioned with his glass towards Harry. "I see you're not wearing my gift."  
  
"The dragon heirloom?" Harry shrugged. "Frankly it was dazzling my eyes because it kept flashing a lot."  
  
Draco sat up in alarm. "By Merlin's beard! Did Slughorn or Theo escape?"  
  
Harry raised his arm. "Don't worry, it's nothing like that."  
  
"What is it, then?" Draco scowled at the room. "And I thought we were safe in the Burrow!"  
  
Harry fingered the lapel of his robes. "The heirloom flashed because of the twins' plotting. Reckon they are devising some prank that triggered the protecting spells."  
  
"Those gits are after you now?" Draco glowered at the door.  
  
"No, they're after your father," Harry explained. "The heirloom is still attuned to the Malfoys; at least, that was Lucius' explanation when he borrowed it from me."  
  
"Oh, I see." Draco rubbed his chin. "So that's why Mother was talking to the twins; she's trying to rein them in."  
  
"Could be." Harry nodded noncommittally. Glancing at Draco's earnest face, he decided not to share his observation that Narcissa's smirk appeared expressly designed to encourage Fred and George.  
  
"Ron told me he wants to play Quidditch tomorrow," Draco said casually, his fingers straying toward the pocket of his robes; the bulge of the box which had his engagement ring felt reassuring.  
  
He sighed, wondering if Harry would like the griffin/snake motif of the ring, though Luna had insisted it was the kind of thing Harry would appreciate.  
  
"He mentioned the same thing." Harry smiled, his gaze straying towards the door when Luna bustled in.  
  
"Aren't you two going to watch the fireworks?" Luna said as she skipped towards the table. "You missed the most exciting one. I will never forget the sight of the huge firework dragon looming as it turned its beak towards your father."  
  
Draco groaned and stood up so fast, his wine glass upon the table wobbled a bit. Then he dashed out of the Burrow, intent on helping Lucius.  
  
Meanwhile, Luna walked towards Harry and handed him a small velvet box. "Here you are, Harry. I will make sure to distract Draco so you can put the ring into the Snitch."  
  
"That's great, Luna." Harry beamed at her. "Now I'll have to let Draco win, so when he lands the Snitch will open up and reveal the ring."

oOoOo

  
Harry's cloak flapped in the cold wind, his cheeks rosy with the excitement that always coursed through his blood when he played Quidditch, especially against Draco. He gulped at the sight of Draco's lean form, bent over his broom as he flew alongside him, his golden hair shining in the morning sun.  
  
Harry glanced down at the fields surrounding the Burrow, which were white with snow in Christmas Day.  
  
"Oi, gits!" Fred called out to them from below. "Plan on catching the Snitch this year?"  
  
"Shut it, Fred," Ron shouted. "Let them play the game!"  
  
Actually, Harry reflected, Fred was right. The game had been going on for an inordinate amount of time. It had to do with the fact that whenever the Snitch approached him, Harry veered away. He wanted Draco to win the game; the trouble was that Draco appeared to be having difficulty catching it.  
  
"And the game draws into its fourth hour." Luna's voice boomed from the ground. "Our Seekers appear to be dumbfounded in this cold day due to the herd of Umgubular Slashkilters that dog their flight."  
  
Harry snickered at Luna's colorful explanations as he waved to the spectators on the ground. Molly and Arthur were of good cheer while Narcissa waved her arm at her son. On the other hand, Lucius appeared to be hiding behind Bill and Charlie's tall frames.  
  
"Watch out, Harry, that slashkilter on your right wants to attack!"  
  
Hearing Luna's words, Harry reacted instinctively and his hand shot out to defend himself, his fingers closing around air – and a small, quivering thing that sought to escape its confinement.  
  
"And Harry catches the Snitch despite the cowardly slashkilters!" Luna shouted gleefully while she did a victory dance, the snow swirling around her in her excitement.  
  
Harry groaned at his failed plans to spring the engagement ring on Draco. He leaned down his torso, his broom descending in a slow arc to the snowy field, Draco a few feet behind him.  
  
The two Seekers hovered just above the ground. Harry turned to Draco, who was motioning impatiently with his hands. "Go on, Harry."  
  
"What do you want me to do?" said Harry, clutching the Golden Snitch in his fist.  
  
"Do it, Harry," coached Ron, his red hair flapping with the wind as he hovered near his friend, Fred and George flanking him.  
  
"What are you on about?" Harry said in exasperation.  
  
Hermione walked up towards them and said patiently, "They want you to kiss the Snitch, Harry."  
  
Hermione shrugged off Draco's glare directed her way; after all, it was her who had come up with the idea when Draco sought her guidance about how to propose to Harry.  
  
"Reckon you lot are barmy," Harry said loudly.  
  
"Potter, you kissed Dumbledore's Snitch but you refuse to kiss mine?" Draco said reproachfully.  
  
"By Merlin's beard, you are mad!" growled Harry. "Fine, I'll do it, but if you are just taking the piss, I'll…"  
  
Harry trailed off and lifted his gloved hand, opening his palm. He puckered up his lips and gave the Snitch a resounding smack, whereupon the Golden Snitch opened to deliver two gleaming jewels.  
  
One was a golden band with a griffin whose wings wrapped around a snake writhing alongside its body. The griffin's eyes were made of two emeralds.  
  
"Will you marry me, Harry?" Draco said nervously.  
  
"Course I will," Harry said, reaching out towards Draco as he opened his hand. "If you marry me." He cocked his chin at the Snitch and the engagement ring Luna had helped him choose for Draco. It was a platinum ring which depicted two animals, a dragon closing its jaws around a lion's tail.  
  
The dragon's eyes were gleaming rubies.  
  
Draco swerved his broom close to Harry and leaned towards him, his lips honing instinctively towards Harry's warmth. The two kissed softly amid the cheers of their friends.  
  
Harry's fingers tightened around the Snitch, relaxing again when Draco's tongue invaded his mouth.  
  
The movement awakened the Snitch, whose wings fluttered open in a lazy movement which went unnoticed by most people.  
  
Draco groaned, caught in the delightful feeling of Harry by his side, and then a golden flicker caught his attention as the Snitch shot up towards the cloudy sky.  
  
"Potter, you let the Snitch escape," breathed Draco against his cheek.  
  
Harry craned his neck to catch the golden glimmer way above him, and then he smirked at Draco, "I'll catch it again. You want to bet?"  
  
"Let's make it interesting," Draco said in a husky whisper. "Whoever catches it gets to top tonight."  
  
Harry's eyes widened as the Slytherin nudged up his broom and flew towards the sky.  
  
"Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?" Draco taunted him from above.  
  
"I'll show you my broom, Malfoy!"  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes, his knees firmly gripping the wood as he raised the handle of his broom to give chase. He shot up into the sky, and soon the two Seekers were flying side by side.  
  
"We had better watch out for these gits, Gred," George said.  
  
"You're right, old boy." Fred nodded.  
  
The twins flew up, following the rapidly diminishing Seekers.  
  
Ron groaned. "I'd better watch these two! I don't trust Fred and George at all. Coming, Mione?"  
  
Hermione shook her head. "I'd rather stay here. I haven't read the Daily Prophet and I want to find out who is our new Potions teacher. McGonagall is sure to have a tough time finding a replacement this late in the year."  
  
"Wonder why she bothers," Ron said, his fingers gripping the smooth wood of the handle. "Draco is perfect for the job."  
  
"He hasn't graduated yet, or done his apprenticeship," Hermione said primly.  
  
"Whatever. See you later, Hermione." Ron waved at her before flying up.  
  
"I'll better go with them," Luna said, mounting a broom. "You never know when those sneaky Umgubular Slashkilters might pounce on them."  
  
She flew behind her rapidly disappearing friends.  
  
The wizards and witch threaded their way up above the Burrow, their raucous voices swallowed up by the winter sky as they called to each other, their joy in flying obvious to the onlookers.  
  
Having caught sight of the Golden Snitch, Draco's hair blew in all directions as he leaned down, his chest almost hugging his broom. He turned to smirk at his fiancé, his steely eyes the same shade as the cloud in which they were flying.  
  
"Scared, Harry?"  
  
"You wish, Draco!"  
  
Harry snorted as he lazily swung his broom so he flew just alongside Draco. He reached out his fingers, briefly touching Draco's flapping cloak. There was no way he would be scared now, not when he had what he had long sought.  
  
All these years Harry spent giving chase to Draco, caught up in the mutual web of attraction which baffled him - until the day came when he realized he held Draco's love in his palm, just like the elusive Snitch they sought.  
  
Harry gritted his teeth when he caught the glimmer of the Golden Snitch disappearing into the fleecy cloud. He sped away to give chase, eliciting a disappointed groan from Draco, who immediately followed the shock of black hair.  
  
The two Seekers vanished into the mist, only to reappear on the other side. They moved alongside each other, their blond and black hair the only color amidst the grey that surrounded them.  
  
Laughter followed in their wake as Harry and Draco nudged ever closer, flying together out of the past and into their bright future.  
  
  


**THE END**


End file.
